


Reverberating Footsteps

by AkuChibi



Category: Moonlight (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, kind of ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 61,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2763698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkuChibi/pseuds/AkuChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester disappeared in 2004 at the age of 25, leaving behind a worried wayward father and a little brother with a guilty conscience after he is turned into a vampire by Mick St. John. The best solution, Dean thinks, is to disappear and let his family think he is dead rather than let them know he is a vampire. Four years later, his past is catching up with him, and being a vampire might be the least of his worries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Vampire's Life

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been dormant and abandoned for over a year. I always liked this story, and I'm hoping that posting it here will breathe new life into it and get me updating again, even though I haven't really been into Supernatural in years. There is a prequel to this but I'm not sure if I'm going to post it - it's just a one-shot. 
> 
> A few things to know:
> 
> -This was started back in 2010. My writing was crap back then. I doubt I will remedy the mistakes before posting here, so... deal with it.
> 
> -Mick starts out okay but eventually goes a little OOC, I think. It probably would have been better if I left Moonlight out of this and just created an original character to fulfill the role, but it's too late to change it now.
> 
> -This is pre-series of Moonlight all the way through (I don't care if the years don't add up, deal with it), and since it starts pre-series of Supernatural, it's not really canon anymore. 
> 
> -I used to know where I was going with this and had extensive notes. They were lost along with my computer, and then my USB drive. I lost everything on this story, which is why it's been dormant for a while. I hope posting it here will remedy this because I was fond of this story.
> 
> -This was my first attempt at a crossover. It's probably terrible. I apologize in advance.
> 
> -I would appreciate any feedback!!

**Reverberating Footsteps**

A Moonlight/Supernatural Crossover

 

Chapter One: A Vampire’s Life

 

Dean woke cold, as he always did in the damn freezer in the apartment he shared with his sire. He sighed and stretched, watching as his breath appeared in front of him even though he didn’t even really need to breathe. It was mostly just a habit rather than just actual need. He shoved the top of the freezer open and slid out of it, wrapping a dark blue robe around him before walking out of the back room. Friggin’ Mick got the good room upstairs, but him? No. He had a small room behind Mick’s study, hidden away from prying eyes, so maybe that was good. But still.

            He went to the refrigerator and pulled it open, revealing a few packages of blood. He sifted through them before selecting a type and drinking away, prying open one side of the bag and tilting it toward him so that it ran down his throat. Cold blood was not as nearly as good as warm blood, but it had to be enough because he refused to become what he once hunted, a monster only out for human blood. He would never be like that, as he promised himself.

            He heard movement behind him and turned to see his sire, Mick St. John, entering the kitchen, clad in a robe of his own, reddish in color. Mick nodded at him in greeting and Dean grunted back, neither of them being morning people. Or, considering the time, evening people. Dean was never very cheerful when he just woke, and neither was Mick, so it usually worked out. They both knew to leave the other alone at first.

            Dean went to the back room to get changed into some real clothes--his clothes, too, and not those threads Mick threw on. Though they both liked having a leather jacket, which maybe was okay. Dean pulled on a dark black shirt, a pair of loose jeans that were torn at the knees, and a black leather jacket before he exited the back room and found Mick waiting for him in the main room, sitting peacefully on the couch as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

            Mick was dressed in neat jeans that fit him nicely, no tears or holes in them, and a light brown shirt with a light brown leather jacket. His dark brown, almost black, hair stood out in contrast with the light brown of the jacket but it suited him, in a way, along with his dark eyes.

            “So where are we going?” Dean asked, because Mick only got ready so quickly if he was planning on going somewhere with Dean, which was strange because Dean had only been planning on going for a little walk in the cool evening breeze, seeing as how the temperature around here was starting to drop somewhat, finally. Obviously Mick wanted them to go somewhere.

            “Josef’s,” Mick said as the two exited the apartment, which was fairly large, with a massive steel door and cameras for the hallway. It even had a damn upstairs and Dean wondered how Mick afforded it. He never charged people too much for his services…unless he really disliked them, which Dean thought was pretty hilarious because Mick didn’t necessarily dislike people very easily. So the people had to be some major jerks or something, which made them worthy of such a high price, at least in Dean’s book and obviously Mick’s too, since he was the one charging them.

            “Okay.” Dean liked Josef. They has similar tastes, I.E. women, and many of them at that. “Why?” Not that he didn’t want to go, it was just that Mick usually didn’t do things without a reason, especially with the way he had been acting lately, taking case after case after case and… ugh. It hurt just to think about the headache it gave him.

            Mick shrugged as they climbed into his car. “I thought we could use a little downtime.”

            “Uh huh.” Dean eyed the elder vampire suspiciously. “No ulterior motives?”

            “None.”

            “Right…” Dean shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s get this show on the road, then, yeah?”

            Mick smiled and sped away from the curb.

            “So how have you been doing?” Dean questioned casually as they drove, his fingers itching to turn some music on. He missed his baby, his precious Impala. But no, he wasn’t supposed to drive that unless absolutely necessary because it was too noticeable. Like two dudes walking around with sunglasses and leather jackets wouldn’t look a bit strange to some people? Not even a little?

            Sometimes Mick’s reasoning sucked out loud.

            Mick glanced over at him. “I’m good. You?”

            “Good. Fantastic. Can I drive my car?”

            “No.”

            Short, simple, to the point.

            Damn it.

            Normally Dean would never give into anyone, especially when it concerned his beloved Impala, but damn it, this was different. Mick wasn’t just his friend or the guy who paid rent, he was Dean’s _sire_. He had turned Dean into a vampire and thus that left them bonded, and left Dean a lot more submissive than he would have liked, really. It kind of got annoying if he stopped to think about it. Then again, he was kind of used to taking orders--like from his father.

            Dad.

            He swallowed.

            He missed his father. And Sam. Sammy. His pain in the ass little brother. But they were gone, stuck in another part of his life that he would never get back. He wondered how they were doing. John was probably okay, not having to look out for Dean anymore, and Sammy was probably doing great things in college, if he wasn’t out of it already. It had been four years since he’d been turned, after all.

            Four years.

            He was twenty-nine now but it seemed he would forever be stuck in his twenty-five-year-old self.

            They arrived at a large building and went all the way up to the top floor, where the elevator doors opened to reveal and lavish room. Near the far center of it stood a massive oak desk with a guy sitting at it. The guy stood, grinning as he moved to greet them. He was shorter than both Mick and Dean, who stood at about the same size, really. His light brown hair was short cropped, much like Dean’s except not as spiky, and his brown eyes sought out the two of them.

            “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Josef Kostan asked with a grin, his fangs showing.

            Yeah, Josef was another vampire, and he was around four-hundred-years-old. He was freakin’ ancient.

            Dean shrugged. “Boredom. Excite us. C’mon.”

            Josef rolled his eyes. “I see you still have a short attention span.”

            “Duh, dude.” Dean grinned and looked around. “You have any hot babes stashed around here somewhere or do I have to look for them?”

            “Get your own,” Josef said before glancing at Mick in confusion. This normally wasn’t Mick’s kind of thing.

            “I thought we could use a little downtime,” Mick said in answer to Josef’s unspoken question.

            Josef nodded as though understanding. “I see,” he said. “Follow me.” He turned and walked toward a side door in his large office. Dean and Mick followed after him and entered the room beyond as Josef pried open the door. Inside, people were standing over a pool table and a few girls were dancing in the background.

            Dean laughed. “You mean this was going on and you were out there, sitting behind your desk? Man, you are one messed up vamp.”

            Josef grinned. “I heard someone was coming up so I went out to look as though I were actually working, as I’m supposed to be up here but then again, this is _my_ office, isn’t it? Why not have some fun?”

            “Now you’re speaking my language.”

            Mick rolled his eyes. Dean rammed an elbow into his ribcage.

            “Loosen up a little, Micky.”

            “Don’t call me that,” Mick stated very firmly, but Dean rolled his eyes in response.

            “Whatever.”

 

 

Mick and Dean left Josef’s a few hours later, both feeling somewhat refreshed. Mick drove them around town because he knew neither of them were ready to return to the apartment just yet. Besides, jobs could always be found while driving around town. One never knew when someone would need their help, and it was nice to know that Dean liked helping people, mankind, just as much as he himself did.

            Turning Dean into a vampire had been completely accidental. He’d been hit with silver bullets one too many times and it had _hurt_ and he’d had to replenish that lost blood. In doing so, he’d tackled a random stranger walking in a hotel parking lot and had accidentally turned him into a vampire as well. He hadn’t known some of his blood had dripped into Dean’s mouth, after all.

            He had felt instantly guilty at having brought someone into this cursed life he lived, and so he’d taken Dean to Josef to figure out what to do before Dean woke as a vampire. Josef had helped him, there in the beginning, and then Mick had learned how to keep Dean in check and teach him right and wrong and the ways of their vampire world.

            Dean used to be a hunter. Mick wasn’t entirely sure what that was but he knew it entitled killing vampires, but it was also among other things that threatened humanity. Only the bad things, Dean had assured him after several months of staying with Mick and being a vampire. Good vampires could live if they followed certain rules, like Mick and Josef were currently doing.

            Mick shook the thoughts from his head.

            He was just starting to glance at Dean and ask him where he wanted to go before they headed back to the apartment, when a little girl ran out into the middle of the road and stood there, watching as their car approached her. Gasping, Mick slammed on his breaks, causing them both to fly forward a little and get jerked back by their seatbelts.

            “The hell?” Dean griped as he grasped at his head, looking to see the little girl in the middle of the road. She moved toward the car and stood directly in front of it, watching the two of them with wide eyes, her blonde hair flowing behind her in the cool breeze of the city. Where were her parents? Mick narrowed his eyes, not liking this at all.

            Who let their child run freely like this?

            Then the girl’s eyes turned jet black, as though a dark shutter had been closed upon them, and Mick growled lowly. There was definitely something wrong here. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end and his blood felt cold, much more so than usual, as it rain through his veins, borrowed blood from humans since he couldn’t make the blood on his own. Dean looked calm, though, deathly so as he sat up straight in his seat, his gaze focused solely on the little girl with the black eyes of death.

            “The hell is that?” Mick snarled as the girl stepped toward the car a little more. Her hand raised and suddenly the car was flown back, crashing into the cement ground harshly. Mick groaned and quickly undid his seatbelt as he slid out of the shattered car window, glancing over at Dean to see him doing the same, a cut down his forehead, blood running into his face as he watched the little girl.

            “Dean Winchester,” the little girl said with a wicked, sinister grin. “And here we all thought you were dead.”

            “And you are…?” Dean asked slowly, glaring at her with narrowed green eyes, a harsh tint to his face.

            The little girl chuckled as though this was all a game and was hilarious to her. Mick growled and seriously considered ramming his fist through this little girl’s face even though she was just a child. There was something evil about her, horrible and wrong, and the wrongness of it all kept screaming through him as though it were a physical force. It was really starting to give him a headache.

            “Who are you?” Mick snapped, tired of this game this girl seemed to be playing with them. She’d already destroyed his car--without even really lifting a finger. She’d just waved her hand a little and suddenly his car had been flying through the air. What was up with that? Was this something like what Dean had been talking about when he’d said he hunted evil things? Was she something he’d hunted? Mick glanced over at the vampire he’d created and frowned at the intent expression he found there.

            “Cristo,” Dean growled.

            The little girl growled and her expression turned angry, no longer all smiles and happy laughs. Well, good.

            “She’s a demon,” Dean snapped to Mick.

            “A what?” Mick asked with a heavy frown as his mind blanked on him. Demons weren’t real… were they?

            “Who are you?” Dean growled at the girl. “And what are you doing here? How do you know me?”

            “We all know of you,” the girl told him as though he should have known, as though it were common knowledge and were as easy as knowing that there were fifty states in the U.S. This girl’s attitude was grating on Mick’s nerves fairly quickly. “And we are going to find you.”

            “Why? Why am I important?” Dean asked, utterly confused. Mick didn’t like where this conversation seemed to be heading.

            “You don’t know?” she asked, as though it were a crime not to know here reasoning.

            Yeah. She was really annoying, Mick decided. Maybe it would be best to shut her up? Could demons be killed? Hmm.

            “I’m Lilith,” the girl finally said with a wide grin as though she were proud of her name.

            “Lilith?” Dean asked, frowning.

            “We’ll come for you, Dean Winchester--you can count on that. Nowhere is safe from us.” Then the girl threw her head back and screamed as a black smoke filtered out of her mouth to storm through the air before disappearing from view, into the dark clouds of the night.

            Mick started as the little girl fell to the ground. In an instant, he was next to her, catching her before her head could collide with the ground. That eerie feeling he’d had was gone now, and his hairs were no longer standing on end. Did that meant the demon was gone or that it was just… dormant or sleeping or something? What was happening? He hadn’t the faintest idea. He glanced back at Dean to see him moving toward them now, as though torn from his shock.

            “What the hell was that all about?” Mick snapped, wanting some answers.

            Dean opened his mouth to say something but was cut off as the little girl shifted in Mick’s arms. “We should get her to the hospital,” Dean said instead of what he’d originally been getting ready to say. Mick wondered if the danger was really over, that the ‘demon’ was really gone, but then he nodded tightly and took off at a quick run through the streets, keeping to the shadows as he hurried toward the hospital. He could hear the nearly silent footfalls of Dean as he ran right behind him, keeping pace but not passing him.

            Mick dropped the little girl off at the hospital… mainly in the doorway to the hospital, then he and Dean had fled the scene as nurses came to investigate and found the girl. They hurried her inside and Mick and Dean kept to the shadows.

            Mick turned to Dean and grabbed him by the arms, shaking him a little. “What the hell was that?” he asked again, his gaze narrowed onto Dean’s face for any sign he was about to lie.

            Dean bit down on his lower lip and then slowly shook his head. “I don’t really know,” he admitted quietly. “I have no idea.”

            Neither did Mick, but it didn’t settle well with him.

            It seemed as though things were about to get very, very complicated.

 


	2. Once a Hunter...

Chapter Two: Once A Hunter…

 

Dean shifted uneasily as he sat on the couch in the apartment. Mick paced the room quickly, from wall to wall and back again. Honestly it was all giving Dean a headache and wanted to growl at the elder vampire to stop but something kept stopping him. He wasn’t sure what, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that he was nervous. He and Mick had just gotten back to the apartment about an hour ago and the vampire before him hadn’t stopped pacing since. He was going to form a trench in the middle of his living room if he wasn’t careful, but then that might be kind of funny, Dean mused. Mister ‘clean and tidy’ with a trench in the floor? Yeah, he’d pay to see that.

            He cleared his throat slowly and was rewarded by Mick, who stopped pacing to finally narrowed his dark eyes at him. “So what exactly happened tonight, huh?” Mick asked. “That girl knew you. How? And what was with all that smoke? She flipped my car over, Dean! How in the hell is a little girl that strong?”

            It was understandable that Mick was angry, upset, and he wanted answers. Sighing, Dean shrugged his broad shoulders. “Demon,” he said. “I told you I was a hunter, right? Not just for vampires. For everything. That includes werewolves, ghosts, demons, vampires, and the occasional wendigo.”

            Mick’s expression was blank and Dean was having a hard time reading him. Then again, that wasn’t really new - of everyone, Dean had the worst time reading his sire. “What? Wendigo? Ghosts? None of those are even real.”

            “Just like vampires aren’t real?” Dean countered quickly, watching as a notch appeared in the armor of Mick. Mick’s eyes shifted away uncertainly and Dean sighed, continuing. “They’re real, Mick. I’m a hunter - I was raised to fight these things and…well, kill them. I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, but I’m not lying. Not about this. And how else can you explain it? She flipped your car over, man! How? She’s a little girl. And there was black smoke and she had black eyes. Those are all signs of a demon, and she flinched when I said ‘Cristo’.”

            “Yeah, what is that, exactly?” Mick asked, attaching himself to one part of information in an effort to wrap his head around everything.

            “It’s Christ in Latin. Demons don’t like it.”

            “Why?”

            “How should I know? I just know it works.” Dean shrugged. “But that’s what you saw tonight. A demon. And apparently…” He bit down on his lower lip and shook his head. “Apparently, they’re looking for me.”

            “Why?” Mick asked, frowning in confusion.

            “No idea. You’d think they’d like the fact that a hunter is out of the mix now, right? That they got turned into a supernatural creature? But no. They have to go all emo and hunt me down.” Dean shook his head again, sighing. “Figures. Winchester luck and all that.”

            Mick paused and watched him for a moment. “Why would they want to come after you? I don’t understand.”

            “Join the club,” Dean told him. “A few more members and we get jackets.”

            Mick rolled his eyes and sat on the couch with him. “Smartass. You have no idea? At all?”

            “Nope. None,” Dean replied truthfully. What would a demon want with the likes of him? Sure, he’d taken out a few nasty bastards in his time as a hunter, but why would they be interested in him specifically? He wasn’t important or anything. Hell, his family had practically ditched him the first chance they got, right? Who would have thought the demon world would miss him or something like that? He nearly scoffed to himself. “You’d think they’d be happy but I guess they’re not liking that a hunter decided to stop whooping their asses.”

            Mick sighed. “So… what do we do?”

            “What do you mean?” Dean asked.

            “How do we protect ourselves?”

            “…You mean you’re not kicking me out?” He was a little surprised at that. That was why he hadn’t told Mick about any of this earlier, had just let him wonder at what he meant when he’d said he’d hunted vampires ‘among other things’. He figured his sire would kick him out or something, let him fend for himself rather than stay with him and put himself at risk as well.

            “Why would I?” Mick seemed honestly puzzled.

            Dean shrugged. “Because they’re after me and not you? I figured that would be a pretty good reason to kick someone out.”

            “Yeah, well, as you may have already notice, I’m not exactly sane.”

            Dean rolled his eyes. “Now you admit it.”

            “So how do we protect ourselves?” Mick inquired.

            Dean paused. “If you’re serious about this… then I guess we should start by salting the doorways.”

            “You mean like you did when I first brought you here?” Mick asked, raising a brow in curiosity.

            Dean nodded. “Yeah. Just like that.”

 

 

Sam kicked at the ground in frustration. Another dead end. It seemed to be a never-ending cycle these days, a series of dead ends that left him all the more angry and left the situation seeming all the more hopeless. He would find out what happened, though. He would.

            He pulled his cell from his pocket and hastily dialed in the familiar number, waiting impatiently as the phone rang. Then finally, a gruff voice answered.

            “ ‘lo?”

            “Another dead end,” Sam stated grumpily.

            Bobby Singer sighed on the other end. “Well… head back to the hotel and John and I will meet you there in about an hour. Everything okay?”

            Sam hesitated, pondering over whether or not he should lie or speak truly. He shrugged and decided to go with the truth. “Honestly? Not really. It’s been four years, Bobby, and we’re not any closer to finding out what happened.” He allowed his frustration to show clearly, feeling a little better when he did.

            “Hang in there,” Bobby told him. “We’ll find something.”

            “How? Wouldn’t we have found it by now if we were going to find anything at all?”

            “Don’t give up, boy,” Bobby admonished.

            Sam sighed heavily. “Yeah… okay. Gotta go, Bobby. Bye.” He hung up without waiting for a response.

            Four years.

            Four long, hard years of searching, and still… nothing.

            Nothing about his brother or his brother’s killer. Dean disappeared four years ago without a word, without warning, and no one had seen or heard from him since. Even the damn Impala was gone, Dean’s precious and beloved car. The last anyone had heard from him, he’d been finishing up a hunt somewhere in California. He’d called Bobby to let him know he was okay, and that was it.

            No one had ever heard from him again. It was as though he had just vanished off the face of the planet. Sam had been called to see if Dean had contacted him in any way, and then Sam had learned of what had happened. He’d been on a flight to South Dakota the next day, desperate to figure out what had befallen his big brother.

            Nothing had ever been found, though, and Sam had forced himself into the search, refusing to just ‘leave it to them’, as Bobby and John had said, wanting to give him an out and a way to return to college and his new life.

            But Sam didn’t want that - not when his brother was missing and possibly even dead.

            So he’d stayed, and even broken things off with the beautiful Jessica Moore, not wanting to drag her into things as well.

            And still… they had found nothing.

            His brother had to be dead, even though the thought sliced through him painfully every time he thought about it. Dean would never just cut out all contact, would never just ignore everyone for years. So being dead had to be the only explanation, right?

            Except, they hadn’t found anything… anywhere. One would have thought there would have been something _somewhere_ but there wasn’t. Just a ton of loose threads and dead ends, and never anything concrete. Never any good leads.

            Dean was just… gone.

            Sam ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair before he looked down at his phone. He flipped it open and scrolled through the contacts, staring at Dean’s name as it was highlighted. He hadn’t tried calling his brother’s phone for about two years now, knowing it was useless, but right now, the despair at having found another dead end was gnawing at him. He pressed on his brother’s name and put the phone to his ear with a shaky, tremulous breath.

            It always shocked him when the found the phone actually ringing instead of stating that this number was either no longer in use or it was disconnected like he would have thought. Instead, it rang and rang and Dean’s voicemail actually picked up. It made Sam wonder, really. Was some creep keeping Dean’s phone charge? Did they also have the Impala? Had they killed his brother?

            They had tried tracking the GPS on the phone but no one ever could. It was as though someone had taken out the GPS system in the phone so they couldn’t be traced, which of course left everything with even more questions.

            He forced his eyes to slam closed as his brother’s voice came through the phone.

            _“Hey, it’s Dean. You know what to do.” Beeeeeep._

            Sam swallowed and allowed the phone to drop from his ear, ending the call. This was why he kept looking for his brother, as he kept telling himself. He kept looking so he could find him, could find out what happened to him, and maybe even hear his voice again, not just some recording on a phone that lacked pretty much all emotion. Dean must have been tired when he’d created that voicemail, after all.

            And now it was all Sam had left of his brother - a tired voice on the voicemail of a phone that couldn’t be found.

 

 

Mick sighed as he looked around the apartment. It was salted, practically everywhere, and symbols had been painted on the wall. How was he going to explain this if Josef decided to randomly stop by, as he sometimes did? Mick shook his head and glanced at Dean, who was waving at him from the entrance to the study, getting ready for bed via freezer. Mick waved back in return and watched as the former hunter disappeared from view.

            Mick sat heavily on the couch and combed his fingers through his hair, giving into a large, drawn-out sigh. He wasn’t sure if he really believed all of this demon stuff, but Dean sure seemed to, and he trusted his judgment for the most part. Dean didn’t appear to be lying, and Mick could often tell when he was - one of the perks of being a sire, he guessed.

            What if all of this was real? What if demons really were after Dean? Something twisted uneasily in Mick’s gut at the thought. Sure, the two had definitely gotten off to a rocky start, but now they were friends, and Mick valued his friends more than anything. Especially the vampire ones, seeing as how he couldn’t necessary outlive them because of their age. Humans aged and died but vampires were practically immortal, and so those friendships had a better chance of lasting.

            Besides that, Mick was Dean’s damn _sire_ for crying out loud. He had to keep him safe, didn’t he? Wasn’t that part of his job? And they were friends. Ugh.

            Sometimes things were way too complicated and they gave Mick a horrible headache. He decided he could think about this more tomorrow, but it was time for bed now. Before he could think more.

            He stood and went upstairs.

 

 

Dean yawned as he entered the back room beyond the study. He climbed out of his clothes and was just about to get into his freezer when he saw a light flashing on his old cell phone. He kept it around because… well… he wasn’t entirely sure why he kept it around. He should have thrown it out long ago, but it held within it everything and everyone of his old life, really, and he guessed he was just sentimental like that or something.

            He picked up his phone from the charger and flipped it open to see who had called.

            Sammy.

            His expression softened and his heart ached a little as he stared at the display. His little brother had called him. Again.

            No one had called this phone in years. He’d figured they had finally stopped looking or something. He hoped Sam was still in school, where he belonged and most wanted to be. Right? Sam had stated pretty firmly in that last fight that he wanted to be in college and not hunting with his family.

            Sighing, Dean felt the urge to call his little brother back or let him know he was okay in some way, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Especially after all these years. His family would hate him if they figured out he was a vampire. And anyway, if he was going to call them, he should have done so sooner because now, even if he did contact them, they would hate him for not bothering to do so before.

            And now demons were after him. It seemed that even though he’d stopped hunting, things hadn’t stopped hunting him. Now he was going to be dragged back into it, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. What did the demons want with him? As if his life - death - wasn’t screwed up enough.

            Well… once a hunter, always a hunter.

            Shaking his head, Dean put his phone down and climbed into his freezer for another cold night.

 


	3. Precautions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe how short these chapters were back then xD Now I like things to at LEAST be 2.5k, if not always over 3k. This is only 1.7k O.o

Chapter Three: Precautions

 

Mick had never really been a believer of…well, much of anything…except vampires. And it wasn’t like he’d gone _looking_ for the undead, either--no, he’d fallen in love with one without knowing, and then the night of their wedding, _wham_! He was a vampire and his entire life was changed. He was around eighty-five-years-old now but he certainly didn’t look it. He looked around thirty, maybe, give or take a few years, and he would remain like that forever… unless he was killed or something. But he didn’t plan on that happening any time soon.

            He did not like being a vampire. Oftentimes, he fought what he was and tried to blend in with human society. He tried to befriend humans--only short term, of course. Long term friendships brought up too many questions about why he wasn’t aging and everything, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell a human about anything like that. There was no way he was going to tell them he was a vampire.

            He had never turned anyone before. He did not want to introduce anyone to this life he now had. He didn’t want to curse anyone with a life of drinking blood and hiding in the shadows, never aging, their appearance mostly frozen. Mirrors hated them but the new cameras could still capture their image, whether that was a good thing or not, he didn’t know. When he had turned Dean, it had been a bad moment for him. He hadn’t meant to do it but he had, and then he had been stuck with a new vampire to take care of. Needless to say, he hadn’t been thrilled about it.

            But Dean was friendly and sarcastic, kind of like Josef but in a different sort of way. Soon the two became friends and Mick couldn’t say that he was necessarily upset about that fact. Dean was a good friend. A good person… er… vampire. Whatever.

            The point was, he didn’t deserve to have these… _things_ coming after him and Mick was going to make sure to keep an eye out on his friend. Maybe he could get Josef to help, too, assuming his oldest friend didn’t freak when he told him. Josef didn’t freak out much but still - they were talking about _demons_ here, not just simple monsters or vampires or anything like that.

            “…and you’re going to be an emo guy named Mickonalia who is a gay stripper in this bar down town, and--” Dean started when Mick finally tuned him back in. The vampire flinched and glared.

            “What the hell are you talking about?” Mick growled, utterly confused.

            Dean shrugged. “Seeing if you were paying attention. What’s eating at you?”

            The two were in the kitchen, having just gotten their first thing of blood so far today, even though it was already three in the afternoon and the two of them had just woken up.

            “Nothing,” Mick sighed. “So are you sure these, um… symbols will work? On a demon?”

            “Pretty sure,” Dean said with a shrug, as though he could really care less if this place was safe or not. “I don’t know that much about demons - never really hunted any before or anything, I just know what Dad, um…” He shifted uneasily for a moment and then stilled again. “I know what he told me. But that’s about it, I guess. I think they should work.”

            “Meaning you’re not sure.” It was a statement and not a question. Mick narrowed his eyes at the younger vampire.

            “Pretty much,” Dean agreed easily.

            “Great. So the demons could still get in?”

            “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Dean said, frowning. “Why so worried all of a sudden, eh?”

            “I can’t be worried when you’re staying in _my_ home and threatening my sanity?” Mick countered.

            “Touché,” Dean replied with a small grin. “Look, I don’t know that much about demons, okay? Give me a ghost or, hell, even a damn _wendigo_ over this any day.”

            “What’s a wendigo?” Mick asked, curious.

            “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Dean answered with a heavy sigh as though he didn’t want to know either.

            “Well, if you insist that salting this place is going to help in any way, then I need to go to the store and get some salt,” Mick told him. “It’s not like I keep much around and I’m pretty sure your old stash is almost gone.”

            “Mostly, yeah. Alright, let’s go to the store - I could stand to buy a few things. That shampoo you bought stinks,” Dean told him as he threw on his leather jacket and moved toward the front door. Mick frowned after him for a moment.

            “I think you should stay here.”

            “Why?” Dean asked, frowning. “C’mon, Mick, don’t put me on lockdown… _again_.”

            Mick sighed. “It’s dangerous.”

            “Isn’t it always?”

            Okay, granted, but…

            “Just stay here and I’ll be back soon. You can make me a list of things to buy.”

            “And how are you going to carry everything home by yourself? You may be a vampire but you’re not a damn octopus, you know. You’re going to need some help and, wouldn’t you know it? I’m here.”

            Mick groaned. “I hate it when you make sense. It gives me a headache.”

            Dean grinned. “Then I’m doing my job right. Let’s go.”

 

 

“Is this what you need?” Mick asked, holding up a large canister of salt. Dean eyed it for a moment before nodding.

            “Yeah, grab a few of them though,” he said before he shoved the cart in Mick’s direction. “There’s still one thing we need.”

            “And what’s that?” Mick asked wearily, eying him.

            “Holy water,” Dean replied.

            “You’re kidding me.”

            “Nope, ‘fraid not. We need some holy water.”

            “Okay. I know someone who might be able to get some for us,” Mick said with a heavy sigh. “Is that all, though?”

            “Yeah, so far,” Dean replied. “Like I said, I don’t know that much about demons. I’m mostly winging this.”

            Mick nodded tightly and the two moved toward the check-out line in the store. A middle-aged woman with a mole on her lip checked them out quickly and then they were on their way, hefting up the heavy bags as though they were nothing as they started walking back in the direction of Mick’s apartment.

            “So we should be good?” Mick asked.

            “You never run out of questions, do you?” Dean asked with a scowl. “I don’t know, really, okay? I’m winging this, like I said.”

            Mick sighed and thankfully said no more as they entered the elevator and punched in the number for Mick’s floor. Once the elevator doors opened, Mick and Dean moved down toward the apartment they shared. Mick keyed the lock and entered, tossing his things down in the middle of the living room. Dean followed suit, kicking the door closed behind him.

            “Is there anyone we can call about this kind of stuff? Other hunters?”

            Dean shook his head, grimacing. “I never really knew many hunters,” he told Mick. The only ones he really knew were the ones that were also included in his family and there was no way he was going to call them. He couldn’t let them know he was alive, that he was a vampire. That would only make everything all the worse, he was sure, and he wasn’t willing to take that chance.

            “So… there’s no one?”

            Dean shrugged and decided to just ignore that question.

            It was better this way, as he kept telling himself.

 

 

John had the demon right where he wanted him, strapped to a chair under a symbol to keep him there. Perfect. He mentally grinned as he pulled out his blade and dipped it in holy water. The demon watched his every move, every deadly slip of his finger.

            “You’re going to tell me what I want to know,” John said, “or I’ll have you wishing I’d just send you back to hell. Do you understand?”

            The demon snarled at him.

            John walked into the circle and slipped the knife easily through the flesh of the demon’s shoulder. It howled out as the wound began to steam due to the holy water. “How does that feel? Now, I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

            The demon still snarled but gave a small nod. John felt a little pleased.

            He narrowed his eyes at the demon in front of him. “Tell me where my son is.”

            “Sammy?” the demon asked.

            John growled. “Don’t call my son that. And I mean Dean.”

            The demon barked out a laugh. “So you’re looking for him, too, huh? He seems a might elusive.”

            “What do you mean? Are you looking for him?” John asked, perplexed. What would a demon want with Dean?

            “Only me and most of the other demons,” the demon laughed. “Your boy doesn’t have a prayer!”

            “You know where he is? Tell me right now!” John snarled angrily, his heart racing. This demon knew something about Dean. He just knew it. And he would take whatever information he could get regarding his eldest son and his sudden disappearance. It wasn’t like Dean to just take off. Something had gone wrong years ago but maybe John could help fix it now, if he could just find his boy.

            He had to get this demon to talk.

            “Tell me what you know!”

            He rammed the blade forward, into the demon’s arm.

            “Tell me about Dean! Right now!”

 

 

“Help me…”

            A voice was nudging at the edge of Dean’s consciousness as he slept heavily in the freezer in the back room - _his_ room. He pried his heavy eyes open and gave into a wide yawn, wondering what had woken him. He opened the top of the freezer and froze.

            A transparent little boy was standing in front of him. “Please help me,” the child said desperately before he suddenly disappeared.

            Dean stared.

            What the hell was happening now? With all the salt everywhere, this ghost shouldn’t have been able to get in or anywhere around here! And what was with that kid, asking for his help?

            Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “Great. More research. I thought I was done with this?” he muttered to himself, sighing heavily.

 


	4. When Hunting Little Boys...

Chapter Four: When Hunting Little Boys…

 

 

Dean was in a mood.

Mick noticed it as soon as he approached the younger vampire the next morning. Dean seemed to have a perpetual scowl plastered on his face, and a muscle in his jaw kept twitching. Mick paused, shrugged, and then walked around him to get some blood from the refrigerator. He couldn’t think on an empty stomach, after all. He tossed a thing of blood toward Dean, who nodded in thanks, and the two drank silently, neither saying a word or even looking at each other. Instead, Mick looked around his apartment, at all the salt and the symbols and everything. How long would they have to keep it like this? This would be excessively hard to explain away should someone stop by.

            They finished their blood and wiped at the their faces, using water from Mick’s sink. “So what’s wrong?” Mick finally asked, narrowing his eyes at the younger vampire.

            Dean shrugged. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

            “Please. Your jaw muscles are happy.”

            Dean snorted. “Nicely put, Micky. Knew there was a reason I kept you around.” He shook his head. “Nothing, I just… I think I need to go to the library or something. And look through newspapers, both recent and old.”

            “What for?” Mick asked, frowning in confusion. Dean had never once stated he wanted to go the library. He never even showed much of an interest in reading, except on rare occasions when Mick threw books at him to get him to shut up because he kept saying he was bored.

            “I just… I saw something last night, and I just need to do a little digging, that’s all.”

            “Saw something?” Why was Dean trying to be so elusive on the subject? It made Mick all the more suspicious. “Like what?”

            “Just… something.” Dean shrugged and started moving toward the front door. “See ya later, Micky.”

            “Wait a minute,” Mick said, using his vampire speed to dart in front of Dean before he could open the door. Dean scowled at him, his green eyes narrowed. “I’ll go with you.”

            “I don’t need a babysitter, Mick.” He tried to sidestep the elder vampire and Mick sighed, reaching out a hand to grab hold of Dean’s shoulder.

            “Then tell me what the hell is going on,” he stated calmly.

            Dean shrugged him off. “Mick, I don’t even _know_ yet, okay? I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”

            “What did you see?”

            Dean bit down on his lower lip. “I think it was a ghost but that doesn’t make much sense, seeing as how we have all this salt everywhere, right? A ghost shouldn’t be able to come here.”

            Mick frowned, puzzled. “Then what do you think it was?” His muscles tense as though anxiously, as though he were expecting an attack even though he knew there was nothing there. He would have sensed it or something, right? Then again, what did he know about ghosts? Or any of those other things Dean supposedly hunted? He knew nothing about them, nothing at all, except the rare few things Dean had bothered to tell him, which wasn’t much at all.

            “I don’t know. That’s what I’m going to go find out. It was a little boy…probably around eight-years-old or so, with short blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Still had a baby face, you know what I mean?” Dean cocked his head to the side in question in that was he usually did.

            Mick paused. “I think so, yeah. Are you sure? I think I read something about a little kid in a car accident a few days ago in the paper.”

            “Really? Did he die?”

            “I don’t know. I didn’t really follow it… haven’t bought a paper in a few days,” Mick admitted slowly. Dean nodded.

            “Then we’d better go get a paper or something. What hospital is he at?” Dean asked, stepping out of the apartment with Mick right behind him.

 

 

John swallowed thickly as he drove through the streets of the small town he was in. He didn’t even know the name of the town, having been too distracted to even look. That demon… could it be true? Or was it all a lie? His heart was twisted and conflicted either way. He wanted Dean to be alive, and the demon had stated that he was, but then again, why wouldn’t Dean have called or contacted them or something to let them know he was okay? His son wasn’t the kind of person to just cut off all contact and let people worry frantically about him. He wasn’t like that. So what was going on?

            John wanted to call Bobby immediately after the demon, but his phone was dead and it would have to wait until he could arrive at a hotel and let his phone charge some.

            The demon had said that Dean was alive, somewhere in California. Well, that narrowed it down from the forty-nine other states, at least. But California was huge, and he still had so many places to look for just one person. They had scoured California already anyway, when Dean had first disappeared after doing a job there. That last phone call to Bobby…

            John had been jealous for a while, he had to admit. Dean had called Bobby but not him, and so Bobby had gotten the joy of hearing Dean’s voice for the last time. Then again, it wasn’t like Dean would have been able to reach John anyway. How could he have cut off contact with his son like that? John felt absolutely horrible about it and overly guilty, like it was his fault that Dean had disappeared as he had.

            If he could go back and change things, he would have. He would have made it so that he was always open with Dean and always available, no matter what, no matter what he was hunting or what time it was. Because he could remember the last time Dean had called his phone. It had been late at night and john had just gotten back from a hunt and had been absolutely exhausted. His phone had vibrated and he’d seen his eldest son’s name flash across the screen, but God help him, he’d ignored it. He’d tossed his phone on the table and hadn’t even bothered to call Dean back the next morning to see what he wanted.

            And then suddenly, Dean had been gone, and John had thought he would never get the chance to apologize or talk to his boy ever again, and he’d cursed the world and himself for never answering, for never just sticking with his son and telling him everything like he should have. No, he’d just left Dean to work on his own, and why? Because he thought Dean would have been safer alone, because John was going after the monster, the demon, that had killed Mary.

            But in the end, John hadn’t been there when Dean had disappeared, when his son had needed him the most. He hadn’t even bothered to pick up the damn phone.

            It wasn’t like Sam wasn’t guilty of that as well. John knew Dean had called his brother many times, but Sam had never once picked up. Not once, at least that John knew of. It wasn’t that he was blaming Sam, it was just that it felt like they had both ignored Dean, had both shunned him in some way, and then he’d just been…gone. No sign, no trail, no nothing, just gone.

            Shaking his head, John forced those thoughts out of his mind and focused on the present, on the here and now. Dean was alive, if that demon could be trusted. Dean was alive in California somewhere.

            And no matter what, John was going to find him. He was going to get his boy back.

            No matter the cost.

 

 

The library was practically empty, for which Mick was grateful. He was feeling more than a little uneasy lately, what with that little girl demon and then having to put down all the salt and everything. He was even more uneasy now that he knew that a damn ghost, or something like it, had managed to get into his apartment even through the salt lines and everything.

            Dean went to a computer and started looking back through newspapers online while Mick leaned against a bookshelf, looking around and watching people. One could never be too careful, as he had recently learned. People weren’t necessarily who or what they seemed. He didn’t like being this anxious and uneasy but he couldn’t help it. He just hoped this whole thing passed soon enough so everything could go back to normal, with just humans and vampires involved in his life, and nothing else.

            “Ah, here we go,” Dean said, smirking. Mick walked toward him and sat next to him in an empty blue chair.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah. Alex Michaels, age eight. In a car crash…both parents died…somehow he lived…he’s in a coma in the nearest hospital. Huh. So if he’s alive, then he’s not a ghost, right? So how could he have come to me last night?”

            Mick shrugged. “No idea.” He stood. “So are we going to head over there? Poor kid, lost his parents…” Mick felt a pang of sympathy and compassion for the little kid.

            “Wait, here’s something,” Dean said, scrolling down. “This is from today’s paper. What the hell?” His eyes went wide suddenly, causing Mick to frown.

            “What?” Mick asked, shifting uneasily in his seat, trying to peer at the computer screen but the chair was located too far away. Still, though, he strained his neck to see.

            Dean swallowed and started reading. “Alex Michaels, the eight-year-old boy involved in the fatal crash of a few days ago, woke this morning from his medicine-induced coma. He woke asking for a man named Dean but authorities and hospital staff know no one by that name. Local authorities are still trying to locate the rest of the boy’s family, but the only person to be found is a woman who is his great aunt, but she is currently vacationing in the rain forest out of the States and they have been unable to reach her as of yet.” He swallowed and looked at Mick. “How the hell does he know me?”

            Mick frowned, eyes narrowing. He had to admit, that was more than a little strange, and it sent shivers crawling up his spine. “I have no idea,” he said quietly, wishing he could help his friend but he had no answers.

            Dean shook his head and stood from the computer. “We have to get to the hospital - right now. I have to talk to this kid.”

            Mick nodded and stood as well.

            They would either have to walk or take the bus or something. He voted for walking simply because it was cloudy out today and thus the sun wouldn’t bother them as much. Plus, he didn’t quite trust public transportation at the moment, not after having seen that seemingly random, innocent little girl flip his car.

            Anything was possible with anyone and he didn’t really want to take any chances.

 

 

They arrived at the hospital quickly enough. Dean’s heart was racing as they walked up to the nearest available nurse, who was working behind a counter on a computer, obviously there to help people, a sign hovering over the counter that read ‘Sign In Here’ in dark gray letters. Dean swallowed and shared a wary glance with Mick before they both approached her.

            After all, what if this was all some sort of a trap? Either way, Dean had to know. He had to talk to that little boy and see how he knew him, and why he had appeared to him last night. He had to know.

            Taking in a small, short breath, he cleared his throat until the nurse looked at him with tired brown eyes. “Can I help you?” she asked politely, smiling faintly at him.

            He glanced at Mick, as though for assurance or something else, he didn’t know, and then he looked back at her. “Yes, I… I’m here to see Alex Michaels. I’m Dean.”

            Her eyes went wide and her smile grew. “Really? You’re Dean? _The_ Dean?”

            “Uh… yes? The Dean.”

            “Oh, I’m so pleased to hear it! You’re the only person I’ve heard him mention so far, and the staff was getting worried that maybe you didn’t even exist or something.” She looked at him apologetically. “But of course you do. Right this way, I’ll take you to his room.” She walked around the counter and started moving down a hallway.

            Dean shrugged at the questioning look on Mick’s face and followed after her. He wanted to know how this kid knew him and why he had appeared last night, but he was worried that maybe this was just some strange sort of trap that the demons were playing or something. For all he knew, Alex Michaels was dead and that was just a demon or something inhabiting his body.

            But he wouldn’t know until he saw the kid.

            A moment later, the nurse stopped outside of a door. “Here you go, this is his room. Take as long as you want.” She smiled at the both of them and then walked away, leaving them there.

            “Ready?” Mick asked.

            “As I’ll ever be,” Dean murmured, and then pushed the door open.

 


	5. Kid That Knows So Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is kind of unrealistic, looking back on it, but oh well. Deal with it :3

Chapter Five: Kid That Knows So Well

 

 

Mick walked right behind Dean as the younger vampire entered the hospital room. The smell of disinfectant was strong here, nearly making Mick feel nauseous. Judging by the look on Dean’s face, he obviously felt the same as he approached the bed and the small, tiny figured that was resting there, pale and still beneath the white hospital sheets. There was a wrapping of thick bandaging around his head and there was a serious of superficial cuts and bruises on his face. His knuckles were scraped up and looked sore. There was bandaging also around one of his arms, the left arm that was folded across his chest as he breathed deeply and heavily in sleep, the sound of his heart steady and rhythmic.

            Dean stood over the bed, frowning down at the sleepy boy. “How does he know me?” he whispered quietly, his voice so soft that Mick was sure that he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he was human. Vampire hearing was wondrous, though.

            “I have no idea,” Mick replied honestly, moving to stand on the kid’s other side, facing Dean. He pulled up the hard, plastic chair and sat down, sighing heavily as he rubbed at his temples. “Is it just me, or do things seem to be getting worse?”

            “Welcome to my life,” Dean sighed heavily. “I thought I was done with this…I mean, why wouldn’t I be? But I guess not. Looks like I keep getting pulled back into all of this.” He shook his head and sat down in his own plastic chair, watching the kid thoughtfully.

            “I guess so,” Mick said with a sigh.

            The kid shifted in bed and Dean frowned at him, reaching out a hand to clasp onto the kid’s arm, his voice soothing and calm as he said, “Take it easy, Alex, you’re okay. Calm down.”

            The little boy, Alex, opened his eyes slowly and stared up at the ceiling as though in scared confusion. Mick watched Dean tightened his hold, and then Alex’s gaze turned toward him. “Oh my God,” the boy whispered as though in awe, staring at Dean. “You… You’re him!”

            “Him?” Dean asked, frowning again.

            “You’re really him!”

            “Him who?” Dean questioned. “What are you talking about?”

            “The… The guy they told me about.”

            “They?” Mick asked, not liking the sound of that. His muscles tensed in anticipation. “They who?”

            “I don’t know… the angels.”

            Dean snorted. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but angels aren’t real.” He sounded slightly bitter, but then, who was Mick to judge?

            Alex blinked at him. “No, they are - they told me about you, they said you could help me.” Tears flooded the kid’s eyes. “Please help me, Dean.”

            Dean shifted uneasily in his hard chair. “How do you know my name?”

            “They told me,” Alex said quickly, eyes wide and innocent. “You believe me, don’t you? The nurses… they think I’m crazy.” Tears ran down his cheeks in small, tiny rivulets. “I’m not crazy, right? You believe me. You’re real! You’re here and you’re real! So I can’t be crazy.”

            Dean looked at Mick as though for answers, but Mick could only shrug. He had no idea what to say or do. He didn’t even know what made sense these days.

            Sighing, Dean looked back at the kid. “Okay, okay, calm down,” he said, raising a hand to wipe away the tears from the kid’s face. “Don’t cry. You’re not crazy. Everything’s okay.”

            “But my…” Alex’s lower lip trembled violently. “My p-parents… M-Mommy and Daddy…” He closed his eyes and his shoulders shook. Swallowing, Dean moved and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the kid toward him to hold him in his arms. Alex obliged eagerly, burying his face in Dean’s chest as he threw his small, thin arms around him tightly, as though holding on for dear life. Dean cast Mick a glare, as though daring him to say anything, but Mick only shook his head. He thought it was great that Dean was helping the kid.

            “It’s okay,” Dean said, rubbing at the kid’s back as Alex sobbed into his chest. “Everything will be okay.”

            “N-No, it won’t,” Alex cried pitifully, his shoulders shaking violently from the sobs that tore through him and his small form. “Mommy and D-Daddy are…”

            “I know they are,” Dean said thickly. “I know they are… but it will be okay.”

            The kid cried and stayed that way for a long moment. Mick wondered if maybe he should leave the room, but every time he seemed to so much as think about doing so, Dean would glare at him and then he would just stay put. Finally, the kid pulled back enough to turn sad eyes toward his face.

            “Y-You won’t go, will you? You… You’ll stay? Please?” Alex had such an open, innocent, pleading expression that even Mick found himself quickly caving.

            Dean swallowed again. “Of course. I’ll stay.”

            The kid nodded and buried his face back into Dean’s chest, the sobs no longer there, but his shoulders still shook a little, his body trembling.

            “Take it easy - I don’t need you getting sick,” Dean said, pushing the boy back so he would lay back down in bed. Alex didn’t argue or struggled, and was soon laying down once more. Dean stood from the bed and sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Mick, I think we need to talk for a moment.”

            Mick nodded and stood, already moving toward the door. “I think you’re right.”

            Dean moved to follow after him, but when Mick heard the footsteps die away, he turned to find that the kid had grabbed hold of Dean’s wrist tightly. “Don’t go,” Alex begged, eyes wide and scared. He was only eight…Mick worried about how this whole ordeal would affect him later in life. “Please, don’t go.”

            “I’m just going in the hallway for a minute,” Dean said gently. Mick was a little surprised at his gentleness. One wouldn’t have thought him gentle at first glance, anyway. “I’ll be back in a minute, I promise. Are you hungry? How about I go get you an ice cream cone? Huh? Would you like that?”

            Alex nodded happily and let go of his wrist. “Just… come back?”

            “Of course,” Dean said. “Rest up and I’ll be back in no time. Promise.” Then he turned and motioned for Mick to leave the room. Mick did so and Dean followed right after him.

            They entered the hallway and stood there silently for a long moment. Thankfully, the hallway was empty except for them, and Mick turned to Dean with a heavy frown. “So what the hell is going on?”

            “Don’t know,” Dean sighed.

            “Are… Do angels exist?” Mick asked, uncertain of what he wanted the answer to be. It would have been nice to know that people had been believing in something real, something honestly angelic and benign, but the thought also made him a little uneasy, because even if they _were_ real, they certainly weren’t looking after him. He was a vampire, after all.

            Dean shook his head sternly. “No way. Hell no. They’re not real.”

            “But if demons are-”

            “There’s no angels. There’s just random evil chaos,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “Angels aren’t real. There’s no God.”

            “You an atheist?” It wasn’t like it mattered, but he was just asking. He knew Dean didn’t believe in angels and the like, probably never had, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his moments where Mick thought that maybe he _did_ believe, that he was just hiding it or something.

            “Call it whatever you want to call it,” Dean said. “I believe in what I can see. I know demons are out there.”

            “But… if they’re out there, why can’t angels be? If there’s evil, then there’s good, right?”

            Dean shrugged. “Not that I’ve seen. And even if there _is_ a God and angels _are_ real, why would they go to a little eight-year-old kid of all people and have him ask for me? That makes no sense!”

            Mick shrugged, frowning in confusion. “I don’t know. You’re the expert on this kind of stuff.”

            “Except I have no damn idea what’s going on.” Dean combed his fingers through his short hair and shook his head.

            “Maybe… we should call your dad,” Mick suggested quietly. He knew Dean didn’t like talking about his family and that he would probably still shut him down with these questions, but he still felt it necessary to ask.

            “No,” Dean said immediately, refusing to even think about it as he quickly shook his head. “No way. We can’t.”

            “But you said you don’t know any other… uh… people like you, and it looks like we could use all the help we can get, Dean,” Mick pointed out.

            “I don’t care. We’re not calling him. He’d freak and shoot us or something.”

            “You’re his son.”

            “I’m a vampire.” Dean’s eyes were guarded and narrowed as they blinked at him.

            Mick frowned. “He wouldn’t do anything, right? You’re his kid.”

            “Doesn’t matter. Can we stop talking about this, please? Let’s focus on the kid here.”

            Mick sighed heavily and then nodded slowly. “Fine… I just think we could use the help, that’s all. I mean, there is a little kid to take into consideration.”

            Dean glared. “You don’t think I know that? But we can’t call him. No.”

            “Fine… okay. We’ll deal with this on our own… somehow. So if it’s not angels, then what? Demons?”

            Dean paused. “Maybe. The demon could be posing as an angel in the kid’s mind or something, and lying to him.”

            “Okay.”

            “But that doesn’t make sense… I mean, he appeared in my room last night. How does that fit into all of this?”

            “I don’t know,” Mick said quietly. He felt helpless in this situation and he didn’t like it, not one bit. Ever since he had become a vampire all those years ago, he had never once been completely helpless to do something. His vampire abilities had made sure of that, but he had no idea what to do here.

            Dean shook his head and looked like he was about to say something, but then he cut himself off and looked down the hallway. Mick looked to see a nurse approaching them, a faint smile on her face. “Hello,” she greeted them cheerfully, his hazel eyes bright.

            “Hi,” Dean said back while Mick just nodded politely.

            “Will you be taking young Alex home with you, Mr. …? I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name,” she said with a faint chuckle.

            Dean frowned. “Winchester,” he finally said, causing Mick to glance at him. He knew that was Dean’s real last name, but he rarely ever used it, and so whatever prompted him to use it now, Mick was a little confused about. “Dean Winchester.”

            The nurse nodded, smiling. “Mr. Winchester. Will you be taking him home soon?”

            “Um… what?” Dean asked, staring. Mick came up behind him and stared as well, wondering what this woman was saying.

            “Well, he was asking for you and now you’re here. I take it you’re a friend of the family?”

            “Uh… yeah. Yeah, I am,” Dean said quickly.

            “That’s wonderful! We were afraid the boy was just going to have to go with some social worker or something until things were settled out, what with his great aunt being out of the States and all. Poor boy.” She shook her head. “So when will you be taking him? He is ready to go any time, but he must be monitored for headaches. He suffered a concussion and had to have surgery on his side, but everything seems to be going very well.”

            “Um… take him home?” Dean asked, blinking at her in confusion. “I think there’s a misunderstanding. I’m not here to take him anywhere. I just wanted to talk to him.”

            She frowned. “Oh,” she said, dismayed. “Very well, then… it’s just that the kid really seems to hate the hospital and he seems so scared. I feel it would be best for Alex to be taken out of here as soon as possible.”

            Dean frowned at Mick, who shrugged in response. This was Dean’s call, he decided. Whatever he chose to do, they would both commit to it. “We could question him that way and see if there really is a demon,” Mick said in a voice so low that only Dean’s vampire ears could hear it. The nurse didn’t even notice his lips move.

            Dean smiled at her. “Alright, we’ll take him home.”

            “And this is Mr. …?” she asked, looking at Mick with a frown.

            “Mick St. John,” the elder vampire stated, reaching out a hand. He and the nurse shook.

            “He’s my roommate. Apartments cost so much anymore,” Dean explained with a small chuckle, causing the nurse to smile at him.

            “I see. Well, I’ll go get the papers so you can sign him out. Be back in a few minutes,” she promised before she walked away. Mick and Dean watched her go and then glanced at each other.

            “So… looks like we have a kid,” Dean said.

            Mick sighed. “Congratulations, it’s a boy.”

            Dean rolled his eyes and then pushed the door open and entered the kid’s room once more. Mick decided to wait outside so he could get the papers from the nurse when she came back. Besides, Dean seemed to have a way with kids and Alex seemed to like him already, so he figured he’d let the two of them talk momentarily.

 

 

John’s phone was finally charged, thankfully. As soon as he opened his eyes from his sleep, his phone started ringing. He sat up and flipped it open, bringing it to his ear with a gruff, “Yeah?”

            “John, why haven’t you been answering your bloody phone?” Bobby growled through the line, causing John to sigh and scrub a hand across his face.

            “My phone was dead and I had a lead, so I kept driving.”

            “Did the demon talk?”

            “Oh yeah, he talked.”

            “Anything on Dean?”

            John took a slow breath, telling himself that the demon wasn’t lying even though a part of him knew that maybe it was. “Bobby… the demon… it said Dean’s alive. It…said they were looking for him.”

            “Alive?” Bobby asked slowly, and then there was a long pause. “John, that’s great!”

            “We don’t know if the demon is telling the truth, though, Bobby… I really don’t want to get Sam’s hopes up for nothing, you know?”

            Another small pause. “I understand, but what if the demon’s not lying? What if Dean’s really out there?”

            “…Then why hasn’t he called, Bobby?” John asked, posing the question he’d been meaning to ask.

            “I don’t know…” Bobby answered quietly.

            What if Dean had just broken off contact because he had gotten tired of being ignored by his family? John couldn’t blame him, really, but he prayed that wasn’t the case. He wouldn’t even be mad - he just wanted his boy back.

            “What are we going to tell Sam?” Bobby asked.

            “I don’t know yet. I’m headed toward California. I’ll call you in a day or so and let you know if I find anything, okay? Until then, keep this quiet and just between you and me, alright? I don’t want to get his hopes up if I don’t find anything.”

            “Alright… but sooner or later we will have to tell him.”

            “I know, Bobby… just not yet.”

 

 

Dean entered the kid’s room with a sigh. Mick waited outside, and so he moved forward, toward the kid’s bed. Alex looked up as he approached and relief flooded into his eyes as he smiled. “You’re back!” he said happily.

            “Well, yeah,” Dean said, sitting back down in the plastic chair he had been using earlier. “I promised, didn’t I? We’re gonna get you out of here, is that okay?”

            “We?”

            “Yeah, my friend, Mick and I. We’re going to get you out of the hospital. Is that okay with you?”

            Alex nodded slowly. “Yeah… I don’t like it here. The people scare me. And it’s dark. And I’m alone.” His lower lip trembled and Dean sighed, remembering Sammy at this kid’s age. He reached out and patted the kid’s head, smiling.

            “Well, you won’t be alone anymore, alright? Mick’s going to get the papers and then we’ll be out of here.”

            Alex nodded with a smile. “Great!” he said cheerfully.

            Dean nodded, wondering how he was going to look after this kid when he was a vampire. He wanted his questions answered, though, but he felt bad about using this kid to get them. He wasn’t going to leave Alex here, though, no when a demon could potentially be after him. He had to keep the little boy safe, right? And this seemed the best way to do that at the moment.

            He wouldn’t let anything happen to him. The kid had seen enough pain already.

 


	6. Kids, Leads, and Phones

Chapter Six: Kids, Leads, and Phones

 

 

The park was quiet, for which Dean was grateful. His head was throbbing and he could feel his fangs pinching at his lip due to his growing hunger. He would soon have to eat, and he hoped Mick hurried it up and did whatever he was doing so they could get back to the apartment and drink the glorious blood in the freezer. Just the thought of the thick blood was enough to make Dean’s mouth water and his fangs elongate. He forced them back to normal size and watched Alex, who was happily licking at his ice cream cone near the swings, talking cheerfully to a little girl who he apparently knew. Maybe she went to school with him or something, Dean didn’t know.

He was a little uneasy, watching Alex talk to her. Maybe demons were behind everything, and she could be possessed. So could Alex, but Dean doubted it. He didn’t seem to show any of the signs of being possessed - no memory loss that he knew of, he hadn’t shown a spark of anything strange, and Dean had flicked holy water in his face as a joke, getting a laugh out of him, and nothing had happened.

            But angels weren’t real. Dean knew that. And even if they _were_ , why would they pick to find _him_ , of all people? Why would he be important? He wasn’t even human anymore! He was a vampire. A hunter turned into a vampire. How ironic was that? His own _family_ wouldn’t want him if they saw him like this, as a bloodsucking creature of the ‘night’, so what did the angels want, if they were real? It was all very confusing and he was eager to question Alex about it, but after everything the young kid had been through already, Dean didn’t want to upset him. He could use a little time to just be a kid, after all.

            Dean could remember when he used to come to the park with ice cream. He and Sammy used to do it all the time in every town they ran through, no matter how long they stayed. They did it at least once, even if it was freezing outside. Of course, then they wouldn’t go get ice cream, but they’d get hot cocoa or something. It was just something between brothers, and now, as he watched Alex with a Blue Moon mustache, he found himself longing for the old days, for that period of time when he and Sam were a family, along with Dad, and even Bobby. He missed them all so much, but he couldn’t call them or anything. That was out of the question. Those days were long gone and he would never be able to get them back.

            Besides, he was sure his family had already forgotten about him. He wasn’t weighing them down anymore. At least, he used to, right? Because why else would everyone just up and leave him? His family had ignored his calls, hadn’t called him back, hadn’t even noticed that he felt like a third wheel. Except Bobby, really. He could always talk to Bobby. A spark of warmth for the gruff old man came to life within Dean, and he thought back to the last conversation he’d had with him.

            Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he looked to see that Alex had finished his ice cream and was now moving toward him, waving goodbye to the girl on the swing. “Hey,” Dean greeted as Alex sat next to him on the park bench. “Who’s that?” He gestured at the girl.

            “Alicia,” Alex told him with a smile. “She was in my class in first grade.”

            “What grade are you in?”

            “Second.” Alex looked at him like he should somehow already know that, and Dean shrugged in response. There was a small pause, and then the kid spoke again. “What are we doing here?”

            “What? Don’t you like the park?” Dean smirked and then sighed. “We’re just waiting for Mick to call or something.”

            At least, he thought Mick was going to call. He’d dragged Dean and Alex to the local phone store to switch their numbers and by new phones, something about maybe being followed or something. The guy was paranoid. Dean had willingly complied with Mick’s wishes, and now he had a brand new phone that lacked all contacts except Mick, since, technically, that was the only person he talked to in the first place. It looked a lot like his old phone, the one he’d had before he’d become a vampire. The one he kept in his room as a reminder of those he’d lost…

            Swallowing, he shook his head and smiled at the kid, who was watching him with wide, trusting brown eyes.

            “Why isn’t Mick here?” Alex asked innocently.

            Dean shrugged. “Something girly he had to do.”

            “Girly?”

            “Yeah, he said he had to clean. Dude, that’s _so_ girly,” Dean said, poking Alex in the side, causing the young boy to giggle and fit warmly into his side as he leaned into him.

Dean paused, unused to that somehow familiar warmth of a body pressed against him. Sammy used to have nightmares a lot when they were little and they always had to share a bed, for the most part, and he’d wake in the morning to find his little brother snuggled into his side. It had been a long time since he’d felt any body heat against him, since vampires couldn’t necessarily make their own, and he refused to try and get with someone. It was too risky, and he didn’t want to be putting anyone in danger.

            Was he putting people in danger now, though? Demons were apparently after him, and he was still staying with Mick. He was putting his sire in danger, and now there was this kid…he needed help. He didn’t know what to do, or how to keep everyone safe from what was searching for him. Would they be better off if he left, or not? Would the demons even care if he was here or gone, or would they still come after Mick and the kid because they knew Dean? Maybe it was best if Dean stayed, because at least he knew the signs of what he was looking for, for how to see a demon.

            His pocket started blaring some strange melody, one of the automatic ring tones that came with the phone. Dean scowled and plucked the phone from his pocket, flipping it open and bringing it to his ear. “Yeah?”

            “Okay, the apartment is clean… for the most part. We’re going to have to find better ways of salting it or something,” Mick said.

            He’d gone to clear the apartment so the kid didn’t immediately think they were freaks and try to run or something, as the elder vampire had so elegantly put it.

            “Yeah,” Dean easily agreed, because Mick was right. “I’ll look up a few things.” This would have been so much easier if he could have just called Bobby for help… Bobby knew practically all there was to know about demons, after all. Sighing, he knew that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t call him. “We’re at the park but we’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

            “Okay…” Mick paused. “Be careful.”

            “Duh, dude. See you then.” Dean hung up and pocketed the phone, smiling at Alex as he stood, dragging the little boy to his feet too. “Ready to get out of here?”

            Alex nodded and smiled sheepishly as the two began to walk. Dean kept his hand on the kid’s shoulder.

            Just in case.

 

 

Mick was pleased with his cleaning abilities. Okay, that was a lie. He hadn’t even cleaned anything. He’d called the Cleaner, which was a vampire lady who usually cleaned up accidental kills and whatnot so the general human public didn’t know of their existence. She had been a little perplexed by all the salt but had just snapped her fingers and sent her team to work on cleaning the place. Mick had re-salted certain areas after she’d left, such as right in front of the main door and by the windows and whatnot, but the majority of the place was salt free. The symbols were gone, too, and he figured Dean could just redo them if they were necessary. Right now, though, it would probably be best if the kid entered to see that they were basically normal. And if he asked about the salt… well, Mick was sure Dean would think of something. Surely, as a hunter, he’d had to explain away salt before, right?

            He sat on the couch and basically stared at nothing. His TV wasn’t on and he didn’t feel like grabbing the remote, which, strangely enough, was in the kitchen near the sink. Dean had probably carried it with him and had forgotten, at some point. To Mick’s knowledge, it had been a few days since they’d watched TV.

            Shaking those thoughts from his head, he ran over their situation through his mind. It didn’t really look good, he had to admit. Demons. Who would have ever thought they were real? Actually _real_ , as in take-over-your-body-and-mind-and-become-the-Exorcist-on-you _real_? Mick’s mind was still reeling from that, but he couldn’t argue with Dean on it. After all, that little girl had _thrown his car_ without even really trying. She’d just waved her little hand and _wham_! And now there was this kid, who had just randomly appeared to Dean one night, and then had woken in the hospital asking for him. Mick honestly didn’t know what to think of that. At first, he’d thought it was a demon. Had to be, right? But holy water didn’t work. He’d seen Dean use some. Plus, the kid had been talking about _angels_ , and he’d had to make it into the apartment _somehow_. Mick didn’t know how any of this was possible, but then, who was he to judge? He was part of the undead, for crying out loud, it didn’t get much crazier than that, right?

            He combed his fingers through his hair in frustration and glared up at the ceiling, as though blaming it for all of his troubles. There was a knock at the door and he stood, moving toward the camera. Thankfully, digital cameras and photos these days were able to capture a vampire on film and whatnot, so he clearly saw Dean and the kid standing at his door. He opened the door and smiled, being careful not to disrupt the line of salt across the floor in front of the door. Dean stepped into the apartment and the kid quickly followed after him, holding lightly to the bottom of Dean’s jacket.

            The kid’s own jacket looked new. Dean must have taken him out to get it after Mick had parted from the two of them, he figured.

            “What’s the salt for?” the kid asked once he’d noticed the salt, looking down at the ground in slight confusion.

            Mick looked at Dean, who shrugged easily. “Keeps out cockroaches and ants.”

            The boy twisted his nose in response, clearly not liking cockroaches, and Mick smiled, thankful Dean had been able to come up with a fairly good reason for them to have salt around the doors and windows. Alex seemed to accept the answer easily enough.

            “We’ll pick up your prescriptions later,” Dean said, looking down at the kid. For some reason, Dean’s name had actually been on the list of people who could sign to get his medicine. It was very strange, and only managed to make Mick all the more suspicious. Not necessarily of the kid, who seemed innocent enough, but of the strange facts surrounding them. Why would the kid have said Dean’s name when he woke? And why had Dean’s name been on that list? It made Mick uneasy just thinking about it.

            Alex nodded at Dean’s words and yawned, rubbing lightly at his eyes.

            “Tired?” Dean questioned, and the boy nodded. Dean shrugged and picked him up, easily carrying him up the stairs. Mick watched him go and moved toward the refrigerator, eager to drink something. He was hungry, and he was sure Dean was to, so he went ahead and pulled out two packages.

            Dean returned quickly enough. “I stashed him in the guest room upstairs.”

            Why there was a guest room, Mick wasn’t really sure. It had come with the apartment. There was no bed in it, but there was another couch and a few blankets and pillows. It would be good enough for the kid for now, at least. It was next to Mick’s room and he hoped the kid didn’t think to venture there sometime during the night.

            Dean seemed to sense his worries. “I told him not to go down the hallway to the left,” he said easily. “He said he wouldn’t.”

            Mick nodded and handed a package of blood to the younger vampire. Dean happily drank away at it while Mick drank his more slowly, savoring the crimson liquid and the thick, sweet taste.

            “So what are we going to do?” Mick questioned when they were finished. Dean wiped the blood from his mouth and shrugged.

            “I don’t really know,” he admitted slowly. “There’s nothing demonic about him, that’s for sure, but I just can’t wrap my head around this ‘angel’ thing. I mean, if they’re real, why me?” He shook his head. “I just don’t get it.”

            Mick sighed. “Maybe we should ask him?”

            “Maybe… but later. For now, let him rest. He’s been through a lot.”

            Mick smiled. “You’re good with him.”

            Dean shrugged. “I guess so. Apparently someone wants me to take care of him for the time being, so I figure I better do so, right? At least until we learn what’s going on…and the kid’s safe.”

            Mick nodded easily in agreement.

 

 

John was tired. His feet hurt, his eyes were heavy, and he just wanted to sleep. He was exhausted both mentally and physically, struggling to find any leads in California that connected with his son, but so far, he had nothing. Just like it had been for so many years now. He didn’t seem any closer to finding Dean, and it made him want to shoot something and shout out to the heavens until he was hoarse and out of bullets. That wouldn’t solve anything, though, and he knew it.

            He wanted to tell Sam about this lead from the demon and get him involved, get him helping. It would be easier if they were working together, he was sure. California was a big state and he couldn’t just look all by himself… it would take forever, and what if Dean, if he was alive still, didn’t have that kind of time? He was going to find his son.

            Maybe he would call Bobby and have him help…

            Either way, he’d start looking online through the papers and everything again tomorrow. He’d worn himself out for today.

            He just wanted to sleep.

            So he collapsed onto the hotel bed and was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

 

 

Dean tripped entering his room, which was just his luck. He was just so _tired_ … Today had taken a lot out of him, what with finding the kid and everything. It was late, nearly three in the morning, and Mick had gone to bed nearly two hours ago. Alex had been sleeping for a long while now, ever since they’d arrived at the apartment earlier that evening. He would wake tomorrow being hungry, Dean was sure. Typical kid.

            Just like Sam used to be…

            He shook the thought away and yawned as he stood, placing his new phone on the small table in his room. In doing so, he accidentally wound up knocking both of his phones, his old one and his new one, onto the floor. Groaning, he picked them up and grabbed his phone, deciding to go ahead and make a voicemail. Then he wouldn’t have to listen to Josef whine about how boring he was, if the elder vampire decided to call his phone for some reason. He’d done it before, after all. This would shut him up, at least.

            When the time came to make his voicemail, he spoke cheerfully yet sleepily, “Hey! It’s Dean, which you obviously know or you wouldn’t be calling me… unless you’re some kind of stalker, in which case, I’m not talking to you. If I decide to get back with you, I will. Until then, I’m enjoying _sunny_ California and I suggest you do the same. You know what to do!” _Beeeeeep!_

            He snickered at his little joke. Sunny California. The only people who would be calling him, except for the occasional wrong number or something, would be vampires and they would surely get the joke. Yawning, he dropped his phone on the table next to the other one and practically fell into his freezer, sweet unconsciousness tugging him into a deep, welcome sleep.

 

 

Sam was angry.

            They still weren’t any closer to finding anything. He thought maybe Bobby was hiding something, but he wasn’t sure of what it could be. If it concerned Dean, he was sure Bobby would tell him, so he wasn’t too worried, but still. It was probably about a hunt or something. Maybe he didn’t want Sam to go on a hunt or something like, but Sam didn’t really care. He wasn’t in the mood to hunt right now. He just wanted to keep looking for his brother.

            A part of him said that this was useless and pointless, that Dean was already dead and that they would just stop looking because they were never going to find anything. It was a cold case and had been for a long time now. But a much larger part of Sam fought against that, stating firmly that Dean was alive, that he could feel it, that his brother wouldn’t give in so easily to death. He was a great hunter, probably the best that Sam knew, and he couldn’t be taken out in a hunt… right? Or maybe that was just the hero worship Sam had as kid kicking in again. He wasn’t sure.

            But he had to keep looking, keep searching, keep trying to find Dean. Dean wouldn’t stop if it was him that was missing. He wouldn’t stop looking for Sam, and Sam owed it to his brother to do the same. He owed Dean so much…

            He’d ignored his brother for so long…had ignored the name on the phone, hadn’t returned calls, had just let his brother fade to the back of his mind as a part of life he didn’t want anymore. But then Dean had been missing and suddenly it was all he’d wanted. He’d wanted it back so _bad_ … but it wasn’t happening. Maybe it would never be like that again, just him, Dean, and Dad. Mostly him and Dean…

            Tears pricked at his eyes, tears of sadness, anger, and frustration. Why hadn’t they found anything? It wasn’t fair! After all Dean had done for everyone, after all the people he’d save and sacrificed for, how could this be happening? How could he be missing like this? Life was a cruel, cold-hearted bitch in Sam’s mind, to take his brother from him like this. God was punishing him. He’d been a horrible person, had ignored Dean’s calls, ignored his family and the fact that he knew how to save people. Okay, so he’d been bad… but God should have taken that out on _him_ , not Dean. Never Dean.

            Maybe it was unreasonable to think that it was his fault Dean was missing, but a part of his mind still blamed himself. Maybe if he had called Dean back, or answered his calls, or even just sent him a damn _letter_ , things would have been _different_ …

            Just wishful thinking, he knew. He just wanted to find his brother… so badly…

            He wasn’t sure what prompted him to pick up his phone right then and highlight Dean’s name, the name of his favorite person in the world. The person who had always been there for him, his one true constant no matter what, the only thing good about the way they’d grown up… he’d gotten to be with his brother…

            But he picked up his phone, and he pressed his brother’s name and brought that phone to his ear. He hated doing this to himself, because he knew it wasn’t going to change. One of these days, it was going to stop connecting altogether, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do then, because just the mere thought of that happening was enough to make him lose his mind a little. He couldn’t lost that last piece of his brother! It was all he had left of him.

            The tired voice seemed to manage to calm him, though, and gave him new hope and resolve…he would find his brother. He had to.

            What he didn’t expect, though, was to hear a cheerful, somewhat peppy version of his brother’s voice on a brand new voicemail…

            The first change in over four years.

            Sam’s response?

            He dropped the phone as Dean’s voice filtered through.

            He scrambled to pick it up, eager to hear his brother’s voice again, and caught the tail end of the voicemail. _“…I’m enjoying sunny California and I suggest you do the same. You know what to do!” Beeeeeep!_

            “Dean…!”

 


	7. Always Gonna Hurt

Chapter Seven: Always Gonna Hurt

 

 

Alex was conflicted, really, to say the least. He wanted his Mommy and Daddy more than anything, wanted to see them again, but the angels had told him that they were never coming back. His family was dead, but they’d told him not to worry, that Dean would look after him. He liked Dean already, from what the angels had told him, which maybe wasn’t all that much. They had only said that he was a righteous man, whatever _that_ meant. His eight-year-old mind just saw it as grown-up talk. It meant nothing to him. But apparently it was good. Why else would the angels have Dean come to look after him? Why else would they have sent him on that awesome journey that one night?

            He didn’t remember much of that journey, honestly. He remembered being scared in the hospital, and then stilling as an angel smiled at him and touched a hand to his forehead. Then he’d felt himself drifting, and he’d appeared in that room. Dean had been in a freezer for some strange reason, but Alex hadn’t been scared. Mostly, he’d been comforted by the warmth of the angel that had been quietly standing next to him, an invisible figure apparently, because Dean’s eyes had only landed on him.

            He sat on the couch early in the morning. He knew no one else was awake. They would have been around him if they were, of that he was sure. He wanted to look around but Dean had cautioned him against that last night, and he didn’t want to go against his words. He had always tried to be a good kid, after all… his parents had told him it would bring him good things when he was older. Santa would bring him amazing gifts if he was just good. Sniffling, he wondered why all of this had happened if he had been so good as his parents had told him. Why had his mother and father been stolen away from him if he’d been a good boy like he’d always promised to be?

            Tears leaked down his cheeks and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel his mother’s warm arms around him. He could remember her touch, her warmth and the way she would run her fingers through his hair to comfort him. Sobs began to wrack his body and he just wanted comfort, wanted desperately to feel some sort of human contact, wanted to be engulfed in a warm, tight hug that would allow him to feel safe. Because he didn’t feel that safe. The angels had said it was okay, that he was safe at the hospital, but he hadn’t felt like it. He had felt a little better when Dean and Mick had come for him, but that didn’t mean it was much better. All he really wanted was his parents… and he would never see them ever again. They would never come back, would never be able to talk to him or hold him or… or allow him to curl up in their arms… ever again… it was all just _gone_ and he wanted them back so _badly_ …

            The sobs grew louder. He couldn’t help it at the moment, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as he clenched his eyes tightly closed, tears racing down his cheeks. He tried to pretend that maybe it was his mom’s arms around him, or his dad’s, but his own thin arms felt all wrong. The hold wasn’t tight or comforting, it was just his desperation getting the better of him, and he just couldn’t fool himself. His small frame shook as he tried to bury himself into the cushions of the couch, desperate for comfort but not knowing where to get any. He could maybe go find Dean or Mick but he didn’t really know where they were. The angels had sent him to Dean’s room but he didn’t know where that was, not exactly, and Mick’s was somewhere upstairs… or at least he thought so.

            And he didn’t have the strength to walk. He just wanted to sit there and cry until he couldn’t feel anything, because this raw hurt within him was just unbearable.

            A hand touched his shoulder, mostly cold but also somewhat warm, if that made any sense. Instantly his mind knew who it was, had felt the person grab his arm and lead him around yesterday, had felt the person comfort him in the hospital. Sniffling, he turned into the person and buried his face into their chest, feeling arms circle around him tightly yet gently, as though he were a fragile form, which made him instantly think of his mom and the way she would hug him.

            “Take it easy, kid,” Dean told the trembling form. Sobs shook Alex’s body and that was all he could hear as he burrowed his head further into Dean’s chest, searching for a sense of comfort and well-being that he was sure was lost forever. He would never get his parents back. “Shh, you’re okay…”

            He faintly heard Dean mumble something to someone else. Mick must have woken as well. The other person never came toward the couch, though, at least not that Alex was aware of, which wasn’t really much of anything, really.

            Soon the sobs tapered off to just shaky, quick breathing as the tears continued to fall silently, dampening Dean’s shirt. A hand ran through his hair which just made the tears fall even more as he was reminded again of his parents. It was helping a little, though, because it let him think, for a moment, that everything was okay, that he wasn’t alone, that his parents weren’t… gone forever.

            But it was just an illusion and when he opened his eyes, he saw reality. This wasn’t some story he was reading. There was no happy ending. This wasn’t one of those kid movies he watched. No, this was real and it was staring him the face, a lifetime alone…

            He screwed his eyes shut and sniffled heavily.

            Then he startled when he felt himself lifted into the air easily by Dean, who carried him toward the refrigerator. He leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder and watched as Dean pulled out a thing of milk, which he could remember Mick buying yesterday after they’d gotten the phones. Why they had gotten new phones, he didn’t know. Grown-up stuff, probably.

            Dean poured a small glass of milk and then sat him down on a stool near the counter, handing him the glass. “Just take a breather, kiddo,” he said slowly, gently, as though he’d helped kids before. His tone was warm and comforting, which made Alex nod and take the offered glass. He swallowed some of the milk and wiped at his face, trying to rid himself of the tears, his eyes red and raw from crying so much.

            “T-Thanks,” he sniffled, looking down at the countertop.

            Dean grunted something in response and sat next to him. “You wanna talk… about it?” He seemed a little uncomfortable but sincere.

            Alex shrugged miserably. “I… I miss Mom and Dad… so much.” Tears filled his eyes again.

            “Yeah… it’s hard to lose someone you love.” Dean sighed and shook his head. “My mom died when I was four.”

            Alex frowned and looked at him. “Really…?” He hadn’t expected this. Dean had lost his mother?

            Dean nodded slowly, looking saddened as he looked away. “Yeah. There was a fire. She didn’t make it out.”

            “And… does it get better? This… will it stop?” Alex asked hopefully, because he didn’t want to feel this kind of pain the rest of his life. He couldn’t imagine having to live his life with it. Was it even possible?

            “No.” Dean shook his head. “Sorry to say this, but it doesn’t go away, Alex. Ever. You’re always going to miss them. You’re always going to want them, you’re always going to remember them and wish they were here, but they’re not coming back. It’s hard and it sucks and it’s not freakin’ fair, but life can be cruel and we have to take the good with bad.” He swallowed and finally looked at Alex again. “I miss her a lot. I miss my dad, too, and my little brother. I can’t ever see them again. It hurts, but some days are better than others.”

            Alex frowned. He’d lost his parents _and_ his brother? How could he even get up in the morning after so man years? Because Alex just couldn’t imagine living his life like this, in this kind of horrible pain, that empty feeling heavy in his heart.

            “It’s always gonna hurt, kid. You’re always gonna miss them. You’re supposed to. I know you want it to go away, but when it does, if it does… then you’ve forgotten them. I’d rather have the pain and the memories than have nothing at all, you know?”

            Alex nodded slowly, trying to understand, but the pain was still great. “But I don’t want… it to hurt like this,” he whispered shakily. “I want it to _stop_.”

            “It will get better,” Dean promised. “Easier. When my mom died, I didn’t want to keep going. I even went mute, didn’t talk to anyone except my little brother, and only if it was necessary.” He chuckled at some fond memory and then sighed sadly. “It hurt to miss her, and I wished I could forget. I wanted it to stop. But then I realized that she wouldn’t want me to feel that way. She would want me to be happy, not sad, and she wouldn’t want me to be pained by her memory. Your parents wouldn’t want you to be sad, Alex. They want you to live, to be happy and free. They’d be so happy that you lived.”

            Alex swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, nodding again as he struggled to keep the tears back. He understood what Dean was saying…

            But that didn’t really make it hurt any less.

 

 

 

John was tracking down a vague lead in California. It wasn’t much, just a local demon that maybe knew something about Dean, if his son was indeed still alive and somewhere in the sunny state. He prayed he would find a decent lead soon so he could tell Sam the good news, that his brother was alive and that they were finally, after so many years, going to find him. But he couldn’t do that until he knew for sure, because he couldn’t give Sam false hope. That had happened too many times already, and he just couldn’t stand the crushed expression on his youngest son’s face each time his hopes were smothered by dead ends and zero answers.

            He caught the demon in the back bedroom of a house. A devil’s trap kept it in place while John whipped out the holy water and a blade. “You’re going to tell me what I want to know,” he said sternly, keeping his voice low and completely serious, “right now. If you don’t, I promise you things are about to get very, very painful.”

            The demon sneered at him, pacing back and forth within the devil’s trap. “What makes you think I even know anything, Winchester?”

            John shrugged. “Call it a lucky guess. Now, you’re going to tell me all about Dean, everything you know.”

            “Says who?”

            “Me.” He tossed a little holy water at the demon and listened as it hissed, glaring at him menacingly with jet black eyes. John wasn’t phased, wanting only to hear and learn about what this thing knew about his eldest son. “Tell me,” he growled, “or I swear I will send you back to hell.”

            The thing’s eyes flashed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

            John shrugged and started reciting Latin.

            The demon flinched and glared. “I don’t know anything.”

            “That’s a lie. Be honest, now, and tell me. Or things are about to get rough.” John narrowed his eyes into dangerous slits, dipping the blade into the holy water as he stepped forward threateningly.

            “Look, all I know is that everyone is looking for your son. That’s all I know!”

            “Why are you looking for him?”

            “We were told to.”

            “By who?” He wondered who was searching for his son, and why the demons were even interested. Did this really mean Dean was alive? A flicker of distant hope echoed within him.

            “I don’t know who the boss is… I just got my orders from some demons a few towns over. They told me to be on the lookout. That’s all I know.”

            “Is my son alive?”

            “Would we be looking for him if he was a ghost?”

            “Now you’re just being a smartass. For that, you’re going back to hell.”

            “What? I told you everything I know!” the demon protested.

            John smirked. “Did you honestly think I would let you go?” He shook his head and quickly said the Latin that would send the demon back to hell. Once the demon had left the body, he left the guy crumpled on the floor, breathing and just unconscious, and quickly cleaned up any trace that he’d ever been there.

            Then he left and found that there was a missed call on his phone, which he’d left in his truck. Shrugging, he drove toward the nearest hotel, booked a room, and then sat down to call Sam back after looking at the name on the missed call.

            “Dad,” Sam breathed, picking up on the third ring, sounding both excited and panicked at the same time, as though he couldn’t believe something.

            John frowned. “Is everything okay, Sammy?”

            “Dad, call Dean.”

            “Sam… we’ve been over this. It’s not good for you to keep calling his old phone when you know-”

            “Dad!” Sam cut in sharply. “Just do it! I’m serious. Do it right now and you call me right back. You won’t believe me otherwise.” He hung up on him.

            John stared at his phone and then shrugged. What could it hurt to do as Sam said? Sighing, he highlighted Dean’s name for the first time in years, having never had the heart to fully delete the name from his contact list, vowing to himself that he would get his son back one day. Now he released a quiet breath and selected Dean’s name and brought the phone to his ear. He knew Dean’s voicemail. Sam had told him it was the same as it had been before, a tired voice on the end of a phone that couldn’t be found, the last link they had to Dean, to his oldest son, to Mary’s baby.

            He was expecting that tired voice again.

            But instead…

            _“Hey! It’s Dean, which you obviously know or you wouldn’t be calling me…unless you’re some kind of stalker, in which case, I’m not talking to you. If I decide to get back with you, I will. Until then, I’m enjoying sunny California and I suggest you do the same. You know what to do!” Beeeeeep!_

            John dropped the phone and watched as though out of his body as the battery popped off and flew under the hotel bed.

 

 

Dean prided himself on the fact that he was hard to startle. He’d pretty much seen anything, right? He’d been a hunter, after all. Nothing scared him except the possible loss of his family… which maybe didn’t matter now, since he’d already lost them anyway. Nothing really surprised him and he still had his hunter instincts, along with his vampire heightened senses, such as taste, smell, and hearing.

            So it was more than a little surprising when he rounding a corner and found someone poking him in the head.

            The last thing he saw before darkness was a pair of bright blue eyes and what looked to be a tax accountant from nerdy hell, stoic expression and all.

 


	8. Nerdy Tax Accountant from Hell

Chapter Eight: Nerdy Tax Accountant from Hell

 

 

It was quiet when Dean woke.

Too quiet, really, because there was always the ever-present sound of the city that joined him when he woke every morning, even though he was inside of an apartment and inside of a freezer in a somewhat hidden room. This time when he blinked his eyes open, he was greeted with a still silence that left him immediately feeling anxious. Sitting up quickly, he looked around to find himself in some sort of barn, probably abandoned by the looks of it. A cool breeze shifted through the barn, the doors on either side open. Yeah, definitely abandoned. Who would want to keep this dump around anyway? Frowning to himself, he sniffed at the air, opening his mouth to taste it. The scent of grass filled his nostrils, which was a little strange. In the city, he could really only smell people for miles upon miles around. So what was going on?

            He thought back on what happened to him and could remember rounding a corner to see someone reaching out to poke him in the head. As soon as those fingers had brushed against his skin, he’d found only darkness, complete and silent. It had consumed him, giving him only a final image of a guy in a light tan trench coat. The nerdy tax accountant from hell, if he could recall. Stony, bright blue eyes, emotionless face, dark black hair…

            Shaking his head, he stood from the ground, intent on figuring out just where exactly he was so he could find a way back to LA, because he obviously wasn’t in the city anymore. That much he knew for certain. He didn’t hear the bustle of people in their noisy cars with their impatient hollers, and he didn’t smell their sweet blood anywhere. He was, for all intents and purposes, alone. He didn’t like being alone, even though life as a vampire pretty much forced it upon him. Even so, he still had friends. He had Mick and Josef, and Logan on rare occasions, who really knew how to rock at Guitar Hero. He wasn’t alone. He had friends, friends who were like him. So now, being actually alone somewhere he didn’t know and didn’t have a way of knowing how he’d gotten there, it was starting to freak him out a little.

            _What happened?_ he wondered with a frown as he started to walk out of the barn.

The sound of something flapping, accompanied by the sharp tang of sweet, light blood, had him turning him with the speed of a cheetah. Standing before him was the same guy who had tapped him on the head, the nerdy tax accountant from hell. Dean narrowed his eyes into small, dangerous slits and growled, his fangs protruding somewhat on instinct alone, even though he wasn’t necessarily getting a dangerous vibe from this guy. A strange vibe, yes, but not necessarily a dangerous one. Something was different about this guy, though, and Dean was going to find out what.

            “Who are you?” he growled, glaring.

            For a moment, the guy only stared at him, unblinking. Well, that was downright unnerving. “I am Castiel,” he said finally, his voice somewhat gruff and low, as though he were unused to speaking.

            Dean blinked. That was a strange name. He’d never heard it before. “Uh huh… why did you bring me here?”

            “We need to talk, Dean.” Castiel stepped forward slightly.

            “How the hell do you know who I am?” Dean asked, stepping back quickly, keeping his eyes trained on the guy. His skin itched, his hair standing on end. This guy was giving off a strange vibe and it was really starting to make him increasingly uneasy. Plus, he smelled different. He smelled of human blood, yes, which was always a nice surprise. It meant he could be killed, right? But that wasn’t all. There was also a scent surrounding him that was much more potent, something ominous that Dean just couldn’t quite seem to place.

            Castiel blinked at him. “Is that really important?”

            “Yes, it is,” Dean huffed. “How would you like it if I was some crazy stranger who came to you, tapped you on the head, and then claimed to know who you were?”

            A long pause. “I don’t think I would mind. I might be confused, since you are technically only a human, even with your vampire abilities, but I do not think I would mind that much, Dean.”

            Now Dean was very suspicious. “How do you know I’m… a vampire?”

            “There is not much about you that I do not know.”

            “Friggin’ crazy stalker.”

            “I am not a stalker,” Castiel said. If he was offended, he didn’t show it. The guy showed absolutely no emotion, only the slightest touch of curiosity, but Dean couldn’t be sure. “I am Castiel, angel of the Lord.”

            Dean blinked at him, long and hard. A moment passed and then he burst out laughing, unable to stop him. “Who put you up to this?” he asked, chuckling. “Mick told Josef about the kid, didn’t he? Man. Are you working for Josef, is that it? Some kind of a joke, right?”

            Except Castiel wasn’t laughing, or showing any hint of amusement. If anything, he looked even more curious and a bit confused. “I do not understand what you mean,” he told him.

            Dean frowned. “Dude, angels aren’t real.”

            “But we are.”

            “No. Angels aren’t real.” Dean refused to believe it, so he shook his head harshly. Angels weren’t real, because that would mean God was real as well. God wasn’t real. If He was, then why didn’t He stop the crazy things that were happening in the world? Why didn’t He just get rid of the monsters that consumed innocent people each and every day, the things Dean used to hunt? And anyway, even if angels existed…why the hell would they take an interest in _him_ , of all people? It just didn’t make sense.

            “You have no faith, Dean.”

            “Screw you,” Dean growled, glaring. “You know what? Forget this. I’m out of here. Enjoy your life, you crazy stalker.” He turned on his heel, intent on swiftly walking out of there, but before he knew what was happening, Castiel was in front of him, two fingers outstretched to touch his forehead again.

            He didn’t even have time to blink before those fingers connected with his head and sent him back into that darkness, consciousness becoming nothing but a distant memory as he crumbled to the ground in a heap.

            Note to self: Don’t insult the nerdy tax accountants from hell.

 

 

Mick was a little worried, he had to admit. He kept feeling like something was wrong, even though he couldn’t exactly place why that was. Maybe it had something to do with Dean. After all, he was Dean’s sire, and thus the two of them were connected in a way. He would know if Dean was in trouble, though, right? There was a bond between sire and fledgling, after all, and he was pretty sure he’d know if Dean was in immediate danger. Still, though, something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones.

            Alex was sitting on the couch, looking half-asleep, tear stains on his cheeks. Mick didn’t like seeing him so upset but really, he had no idea what to do or say to help him. He wasn’t good with kids and he never had been, after all. He wished he could somehow comfort him like he’d seen Dean doing earlier that morning, but he just didn’t have a way with kids like Dean did. Besides, he was sure that if he tried to comfort him, he would wind up screwing things up. That was just his kind of luck.

            Dean had gone out for more salt. Mick had offered to go with him, since demons were out there somewhere, potentially looking for him, but Dean had declined, saying he’d hurry and be back before he knew he was even gone, but that had been nearly three hours ago. Seriously, how long did it take to go to the store and be back? Especially when one was a vampire? It couldn’t take this long to hunt down salt. Every restaurant had some, after all. If all else failed, he could swipe some of the salt shakers, even though technically Mick didn’t care for stealing. He could make an exception here though.

            He was tempted to call but he thought that maybe Dean had left his phone here. He hadn’t seen it in his hand when he’d gone out, after all. It could have been in his pocket or something, but still. Sighing, he glanced at Alex, who had finally crashed, leaning into the cushions of the couch, his eyes closed peacefully and his mouth barely parted, his breaths even and deep. Mick could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.

            He stood and paced momentarily, wondering what he should do. Did he dare leave to go search for his friend, leaving Alex here alone? Or did he sit here and wait like the impatient person he was? Shaking his head, he decided to try and call Dean. First, though, he needed to see if he’d left his phone here. Hopefully not.

            He moved toward Dean’s somewhat hidden room and pushed the door open slowly, stepping inside. There was a phone on the bedside table but then again, there always was. Dean’s old phone, he realized. The one he kept around all the time, and kept charged. It was flashing, meaning someone was trying to call. For a moment, Mick thought about answering it. Maybe it was another hunter or something, someone that could give him information and tips about what to do in the kind of situation they were in. It couldn’t hurt, right?

            Except it would bend Dean’s trust in him, and he was Mick’s friend. Mick respected is privacy. Plus, it was probably Dean’s family, and he’d made it very clear that there was to be no contact with them.

            Sighing, he waited until the phone stopped flashing before he grabbed it and flipped it open. He stared for a moment at the screen.

            _Ten missed calls from Sammy, Dad, and Bobby._

            Wow, those people had been busy. Mick scrolled through the phone and saw that there were only really three numbers listed. Well, that sucked. That meant no help because Dean wouldn’t let him just call his family for advice. Shaking his head, he remembered why he had come into this room in the first place.

            He pulled out his own new cell and punched in speed dial 2. Speed dial 1 was his voicemail, after all, and he it wasn’t like he ever called Josef. Josef was hard to get a hold of because he didn’t like cell phones and preferred to be a ‘free spirit’, as he put it one day when Dean had been beating them at poker. The damn kid knew how to work his way around a deck of cards.

            The phone started ringing and he waited impatiently, wanting his friend to pick up so he could stop worrying. He hated worrying. He hated the feeling of uneasiness that had wrapped around his still heart.

            Dean never got a chance to answer, because when Mick heard what sounded like feathers flapping behind him, he closed the phone and spun around, coming face to face with a guy with blue eyes and black hair.

            Said guy dropped a motionless Dean onto the ground. Mick stared at his friend and quickly moved forward, looking up to see the guy disappear suddenly. Swallowing, he wondered how that was even possible, but now wasn’t the time to think about it. Right now, his friend was unconscious and he wondered why.

            “Dean?” he asked quickly, shaking him a little. The younger vampire mumbled something and blinked his eyes open slowly, looking at the ceiling in confusion before his gaze sharpened and his eyes shifted toward Mick. “Are you all right?”

            Dean frowned at him. “How did I get here?”

            “I don’t know… Some guy… He just disappeared! How is that possible?”

            Dean shrugged and snorted. “Dude claims he’s special.”

            “Who is he? How is he special?”

            Dean sat up and yawned. “He’s Castiel, and he claims he’s an angel of the Lord.”

 

 

 

Sam and John were in California. Sam joined him early this morning, having driven all night to meet up with his father. Dean was somewhere in California, Sam knew. First, he’d heard the voicemail. Then, when John had finally called him back after listening to said voicemail, he’d told Sam that a demon had told him that Dean was somewhere in California. Sam had been a little upset that John had kept this information from him, but he could see why he’d done it. He hadn’t wanted to get Sam’s hopes up for no reason, which he appreciated…but this was his brother they were talking about, and he wanted to know every little detail about the information they were given.

            Why had Dean’s voicemail changed for the first time in so many years? It was definitely Dean. It wasn’t just someone messing with them. Sam knew his brother’s voice, knew every cadence and nuance, had been studying it for most of his childhood as he tried to mimic his big brother. He knew it was Dean, knew it was genuine cheer, and he wondered what was going on? Why change it now? Did it really mean Dean was still alive out there somewhere?

            If so, then why had he never changed the voicemail before? Why had he never called or let them know he was okay, that he was even _alive_? Wondering about this made Sam frown thickly. Could it have been because Dean didn’t _want_ to talk to them? Didn’t _want_ to let them know where he was and how he was? Had he just decided on his own to cut off all ties with his family? Sam prayed not. Dean wasn’t like that, right? He wouldn’t just cut his family out of his life.

            _Why not?_ a snide part of his mind whispered. **_You_** _did. When you left for Stanford, you did. You didn’t call, didn’t answer, didn’t contact him or even let him contact you… why wouldn’t he do the same? The way you treated him…_

            He could feel tears pressing against the backs of his eyes and he quickly forced them down, unwilling to start crying again, especially with his dad sitting on the other bed in the hotel room, searching through Sam’s laptop. He was looking for clues, anything about anyone named Dean Winchester. So far, nothing had come up, but California was a big state and Sam hoped something would show up soon. He truly, really wanted to find his brother and make things right. He would apologize and tell Dean how much he missed him, how much he regretted never answering his calls, how much he regretted never calling him back. If he could do things over, if he was granted a second chance, he would do things differently. He would have picked up the phone.

            “Anything?” he asked his dad quietly, looking at him with hopeful hazel eyes.

            John shook his head, his shaggy hair falling into his face. “Not yet. But we’ll find something.” He sounded sure and confident. Sam nodded and went back to looking at the research John had dug up earlier, about demonic activity and anything strange going on in California. There were a lot of printed papers to sift through.

            “Check newspaper articles too,” Sam suggested.

            John nodded and typed at the keyboard on the laptop.

 

 

 

“And you’re positive he’s _not_ an angel?” Mick asked Dean for what had to be the seventeenth time in the past two seconds.

            Dean narrowed his eyes. “Am I stuttering? He’s not an angel, Mick!”

            “How do you know that? Alex said he was seeing angels. If demons are real, angels could be too.”

            Dean shook his head. “But that doesn’t explain why _me_ , of all people. What’s so special about _me_ , specifically? Why would they come to me?”

            “I don’t know,” Mick said with a heavy sigh. “But why not? You used to be a hunter. The demons are looking for you, so why not the angels, too? Maybe they have a plan for you.”

            “I don’t think I like the sound of that, Mick,” Dean said with a heavy frown. The angels had plans for him? Yeah, he definitely didn’t like the sound of that.

            Mick shrugged, sighing again. “I don’t know… maybe we could ask Alex.”

            “He’s sleeping,” Dean said. “And besides, he’s eight. What if they’re really demons but they told him they were angels? What if they’re just screwing with him? Can we trust his judgment?”

            “He seems like a smart kid,” Mick pointed out.

            Dean sighed. “Yeah, but… I don’t know. I don’t like this. I hate it.”

            “I do too,” Mick told him, “but it’s happening and we really need to figure this out. Maybe you should call someone.”

            “We’ve been over this,” Dean sighed. “There’s no one to call. I can’t talk to my family and I don’t know any other hunters.”

            “…You got a bunch of missed calls,” Mick told him suddenly, causing Dean to frown.

            His gaze immediately shifted toward his old phone, which lay mostly forgotten on the table. “What do you mean? You been looking through my phone?” He moved toward said phone and grabbed it, flipping it open.

            “No. I saw it flashing when I came in here and I flipped it open when it stopped.” Mick shook his head. “That isn’t the point. Your family is looking for you. Maybe it’s time to talk to them. We could really use their help.”

            “No. I won’t get them involved. Besides, they’d kill me on sight.”

            “I don’t think-”

            “You don’t know them,” Dean said, sighing heavily. “Dad’s a hardcore hunter. He kills anything, any _one_ , supernatural. Bobby is mostly the same. They hate supernatural creatures and would you look at me? I’m a vampire! Hello! They’d sooner chop my head off than look at me. And Sammy… he’s at college. He wanted out of this life and I’m not going to drag him back in. I won’t do it.”

            Mick frowned. “Dean, you’re his son… I doubt he’d actually-”

            “He would,” Dean cut in. “I was just his little soldier.” His voice came out more bitter than he’d intended. “And now I’m a vampire. He’ll take me out.”

            Mick sighed heavily and looked as though he wanted to say more, but Dean cut him off by shaking his head.

            “Let’s just… drop this for now. Let me think about it for a while and then we’ll talk some more… okay?” Dean suggested, not wanting to argue, but he really didn’t want to discuss this right now. It was a lot to wrap his head around.

            “Fine,” Mick murmured. “But don’t think this is over.”

            “It never is,” Dean sighed.

 

 

Lilith smiled. Or, rather, the meat suit of the little girl she was wearing smiled. This body would do for now. She wouldn’t have to take an adult body for a while yet.

            In the distance stood a building. In it, she knew Dean and his vampire friend were staying in an apartment. There was salt, and she knew Dean was no idiot, so she was sure her kind couldn’t get in. However, with the angels nosing about, something was sure to stir up eventually. Plus, all she really had to do was wait for her opportunity to arise.

            Because as soon as Dean was alone, out in the open without his angel or vampire buddies around, she was going to rip out his throat and bathe in his blood. She was going to enjoy his screams as he died.

            Maybe not today… but very soon.

            She could feel it.

 


	9. Angels, Demons, and Vampires, Oh My!

Chapter Nine: Angels, Demons, and Vampires, Oh My!

 

 

It wasn’t long before Dean learned that Castiel had no sense of personal space.

First, the guy popped up mere inches from Dean’s face when he’d been in the kitchen getting some blood. It had thoroughly startled the shit out of him, which made him unhappy since he didn’t like that he was that easy to startle. Angel or not, this guy was weird. The second time Castiel popped in was about an hour later, when Dean was stepping out of the large shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. The guy had been standing near the sink as though waiting for him, which was totally beyond creepy. Dean had snapped at him and the guy had left for the time being. Why he kept popping in, Dean didn’t know. It wasn’t like Castiel ever said anything except “my apologies” whenever Dean snapped at him for popping in like he was. If he had something important to say, he needed to just spit it out or something.

            So now Dean was in a bad mood because a certain ‘angel’ couldn’t keep his distance. This Castiel guy was beginning to grate on his nerves. Grumbling to himself, he looked down at Alex, who was looking at him hopefully. “Okay… what?” he asked, realizing he must not have heard Alex’s question for him to be looking at him like that.

            Alex sighed. “Can we go get ice cream again?”

            “…Why?”

            “Because…”

            Dean shrugged. Alex was a kid, only eight. He could remember being a kid himself, wanting ice cream, so he rolled his shoulders and nodded, smiling. “Sure, kid. Let me grab some money.”

He moved and left the room, disappearing through the study to enter his own room. He slid on his jacket, which he’d draped across his freezer-bed earlier when Castiel had dropped him back in here, quite literally. As he turned to leave, he saw that his phone, his old one, was flashing, signaling someone trying to call him. He frowned at it momentarily, forcing himself not to reach out and answer it, and then he managed to tear himself away from it and the temptation by walking out of the room, pocketing his new phone as he did so. In his pocket was a wad of money… not much, basically just a wad of dollar bills, but still. It was plenty for an ice cream. He smiled at Alex and jerked his head toward the door.

            “Wait, I’ll go with you,” Mick offered as he appeared at the top of the stairs, yawning. He’d been sleeping, claiming to be tired. Dean nodded at him and watched as his friend, his sire, disappeared from above the stairs. A moment later, he reappeared wearing his jacket. He moved down the stairs and joined them at the door. “Where are we going?”

            “Ice cream,” Dean said.

            Mick sighed. “You’re going to give the poor kid cavities.”

            “Nuh uh,” Alex said, smiling shyly. “Ice cream rules.”

            “That it does,” Dean said with a nod, even though as a vampire, he couldn’t eat ice cream… or anything for that matter. Vampires couldn’t taste it or digest it, so even if they tried to eat, they would wind up getting sick or something. Dean didn’t much care for the sensation of vomiting, after all, so he decided to be a good little vampire and stay away from human food.

            Even though he was dying - no pun intended - to have a cheeseburger. His mouth practically salivated at the thought of his once favorite food. That and pie… and cheesecake. Cheesecake was always good. Mmm… Now he was hungry for something he could never have again.

            The thought made him sigh. He opened the door to the apartment and stepped outside, Alex and Mick in tow.

            Hopefully Castiel didn’t decide to just pop in and scare random, innocent pedestrians while they walked to the nearest ice cream place… But Dean wouldn’t put it past him. Winchester luck and all.

            If they didn’t have bad luck, they’d have no luck at all.

 

 

Charles Hubert, best known as Charlie, watched as Dean, Mick, and a little boy left the apartment building they resided in. Normally he wouldn’t have been following other fellow vampires. There was a kindred feeling between them all, right? They were like brethren. Except, at the moment, his sire had told him to keep a close eye on them, but there had been no mention of the kid. Who was he? He didn’t look familiar. Surely his sire would have told him about the kid, right? Maybe he was new or something. He wasn’t a vampire - Charlie would have smelled it on him or something. It was just instinct to recognize other vampires. It was how one stayed alive and knew who to trust.

            He wasn’t sure what his sire wanted with the vampire, Dean Winchester. He hadn’t questioned it when he’d been given the orders, hadn’t really thought much of it simply because his sire’s words were law to him. He was bound to his sire like he was to no other, and if his sire said to jump, he was to immediately ask how high. It wasn’t a thing of fear or obedience, not really. It was mostly loyalty. His sire was just that - his sire. He was loyal to him and no one else. That was the way of the vampire.

            At least, so far as he knew.

            So, quietly, he followed after the two vampires and the kid at a safe distance. He made sure to keep downwind and in the shadows so as not to be noticed, but he couldn’t help but feel as though somehow they knew he was there. They were whispering to each other and his target, his job, was looking around as though searching for him. Dean Winchester seemed like a perceptive person, which could end up causing him problems. He knew this vampire wasn’t that old, only a few years in human standards, and thus nothing but a mere fledgling. Charlie himself was nearly a hundred, older than Dean’s sire, Mick St. John.

            Charlie didn’t know much of Mick. He just knew that he was a private investigator, lived in an apartment, and generally hated vampire life in general. However, he’d brought Dean into this life. Even so, he’d never taken the younger vampire to any of the usual meetings they all were supposed to attend from time to time. Maybe that was why Charlie’s sire had told him to keep an eye on the two of them, he wasn’t sure. What his sire wanted with Dean was beyond him, and he knew better than to ask questions. He was a good vampire, loyal to his sire and unquestioning.

            Charlie had to admit that he was surprised when a guy suddenly appeared at Dean’s side, causing the younger vampire to startled and glare with narrowed, heated green eyes. Vampire vision sometimes amazed him, especially from the distance he was keeping. Dean and the new guy, someone with black hair and pale skin, disappeared down a dark alleyway while Mick and the child continued walking, as per the last look Dean had sent them before he’d wandered off down the alley.

            Charlie wondered who he had to follow. He’d been told to watch both of them, sure, but technically, his sire had only specifically mentioned Dean, so he was probably the more important one here. Charlie sighed and shifted down the alley, leaving Mick and the kid to themselves as they crossed the street, headed toward the small ice cream shop located on the corner. Down the alley, he stopped and stood behind a dumpster, making sure he was downwind and out of sight, hidden in the faint shadows caused by the dimming sun in the sky, evening quickly approaching.

            “What the hell do you _want_?” Dean asked the new guy, brows furrowed in annoyance. “You keep popping in like this and me and you are going to have problems. What is it you want?”

            The guy blinked at him. “You were angry earlier and I was wondering if maybe you had calmed down enough to approach in conversation.”

            Dean groaned. “You talk so weird.” He shook his head and sighed heavily. “What do you want? And don’t tell me you just popped in for a lovely conversation. That’s creepy. Stalker creepy.”

            Charlie wondered what was going on. Who was this person? Surely his sire would have mentioned him, right? It seemed that there was a lot he didn’t know about what was happening. Maybe he needed to report back to his sire and see if there was any new information he needed…

            “You have no faith,” the black-haired guy said.

            Dean scoffed. “Whatever. Is that all? ‘cause Alex wants ice cream, so…”

            The little kid must have been Alex, then. Charlie made a mental note of it, wondering if he should bring up the matter with his sire. Perhaps later.

            “We need to talk, Dean.”

            “You keep saying that and yet you keep talking in circles. Get on with it, man.” Dean crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the guy.

            “Why is it that you do not believe in angels? Surely you know we are real, since demons are?”

            “Look, no offense, but I don’t believe in you. So there. Demons are real… I’ve _seen_ them, fought them, but you? Angels don’t exist. And even if they _did_ , why now? Why me? I just don’t believe that you guys would just randomly show up all of a sudden. Forgive me, but that seems crazy. After all that’s happening in the world, why now? Why appear now?” He shook his head and sighed heavily.

            Charlie had no idea what they were talking about. None of it was making any sense to him. Demons, angels? None of those were real…right? Frowning, he trained his ears to listen when they started talking again.

            “Have faith. God works in-”

            “If you say mysterious ways, so help me, I will kick your ass,” Dean said, glaring. “Angel or not, I will stab you in the face.”

            The guy sighed. “Dean…”

            “What do you guys want?”

            “We have work for you.”

            “Oh really?” Dean looked and sounded suspicious.

            “Yes. We are appearing now, as you say, because we have need of you. We have work for you to do.”

 

 

Enthralled and excited by the idea that maybe his brother was still out there somewhere, Sam fervently searched online. His father had finally given him the laptop back, claiming he was going to walk around town and talk to the locals and see if anyone had seen someone fitting Dean’s description. John also carried with him a faded picture of the elder brother, which in Sam’s mind, didn’t do him much justice. He clicked on local news stories for California, sifting through newspapers online, hoping to find something…anything, really. Anything on the whereabouts of his brother.

            Bobby had offered to come out but John and Sam had managed to beg him off the idea for the time being. They said they’d call if they found anything concrete, but they didn’t want him to have to make the long drive for no reason, unless they actually found something. Sam was praying they would, but it wasn’t like God had been answering his prayers the past few years. He’d been praying what felt like nonstop but he was beginning to really lose faith. Well, now it was actually starting to pick back up, since they had this lead and maybe Dean was actually still alive. He hoped so. They’d come so far and searched so long. He couldn’t wind up being dead after everything, right? Besides, that voicemail…

            He picked up his phone, wondering if maybe he should dial the number again even though he knew no one was going to pick up. It was still nice to hear his brother’s voice, this new version that was cheerful and very much _alive_ , unlike what the old, tired version had previously suggested. It was a great relief to hear it.

            He put his phone down, decided against it, at least for the time being. He really needed to keep researching, because Dean was out there somewhere, he was sure of it. No one just up and disappeared, contrary to popular belief. People just stopped looking.

            And he wasn’t giving up on his brother, the person who had practically raised him, the guy who had been everything to Sam as a kid.

            Sighing, he shifted through articles of cities and towns in California, looking for anything newsworthy. He typed the name ‘Dean Winchester’ into the search engine, even though previous attempts at this had filtered out nothing. There had been nothing to find, as though Dean Winchester didn’t even exist, which had been rather unnerving.

            He expected the same this time around. Just because his brother’s voicemail had changed didn’t mean other things had as well, after all

            So imagine his surprise when his search actually turned up a result.

            In the LA newspaper.

 

 

John had a lead, but it wasn’t about Dean. No, there had been reports of vampires in the area, specifically in and around LA. At the moment, it also appeared to be a hot spot. Demonic activity presented itself around it, as in of the last few weeks for the most part. Why, though, John didn’t know. He was just going to skip over it but he figured he had better check it out, just in case. So he called Bobby, who figuratively shrugged his shoulders and said he didn’t know anything about why there would be a hot spot centering around LA. To his knowledge, there wasn’t really much there, except for what one would usually find in a big city in California.

            Sure, he was looking for Dean, and finding his son meant everything to him…but he was a hunter. He couldn’t just leave this alone, couldn’t just transfer it to other people, other hunters, in hopes of shifting the responsibility. His rules of hunting were that if you found the hunt, you took care of said hunt… by yourself. So it was his duty as a hunter and as a father to do this job, so his son… son _s_ … didn’t have to.

            Why would this city be a hot spot?

            Sighing, he pulled out his phone to call Sam.

 

 

It wasn’t like Dean _wanted_ to return to the apartment. No, he’d been all set to get more salt like he and Mick planned to do - they could never have enough salt, after all - but no, Castiel had other plans, apparently. He’d showed up, tapped him on the head, and zap! He was back in the apartment, looking around in confusion. Not a moment later, his cell started ringing and he flipped it open, knowing immediately who it was, who it could only be.

            “I’m fine,” he sighed.

            “What the hell?” Mick asked.

            “Sorry, apparently the ‘angel’ decided to derail the plans. Take Alex out for a while, I guess.” Sighing again, he hung up and faced the guy who claimed to be an ‘angel of the Lord’. Castiel was watching him his blue eyes, seemingly always staring. It was beginning to creep Dean out. “Dude, knock it off.”

            “Knock what off where?”

            “Oh, God. I get the naïve angel.” He brought a hand to his head and sighed as though in defeat.

            “Blasphemy, Dean,” Castiel said, narrowing his eyes in clear dislike.

            Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, you obviously wanted to talk, except unlike a normal person, you have kidnapped me and taken me home. Strange way to go about creeping someone out, I must say.”

            “I do not understand.”

            “Of course not.” He shook his head. “What do you want?”

            “It is unsafe for you to go wandering around. There are demons-”

            “-everywhere in the world,” Dean finished for him, rolling his eyes. “And, hello! I’m a vampire. It’s not like I can really die, right? I’m already dead.”

            “You can still be killed, and it is a risk-”

            “Why do you care?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes into small, suspicious slits. “What does it matter to you?”

            “We have plans for you.”

            “Yeah, you said that before… sorry, but that doesn’t really explain much, Cas.”

            “My name is Castiel.”

            “That’s too long and formal. I hate formal.”

            “I am Castiel, not Cas.”

            “Okay… Cas.”

            Castiel sighed and shook his head. “They said you would be difficult.”

            “They?”

            “The other angels.”

            “You talk about me?” He grinned. “Good things, I hope?”

            Castiel blinked at him.

            Dean sighed. “Whatever. Look, I’m going to live my life as I want. If you want to join in, and I can’t believe I’m saying this to some crazy guy who thinks he’s an angel and enjoys taking me home, then go ahead Walk with me. Don’t just pop in and don’t make me go home when I’m out.”

            “It is unsafe-”

            “So?”

            “We have plans-”

            “So you’ve said,” Dean grunted. “You’re like a broken record, dude.” He shook his head. “Alright, zap me back to the store. I’ve got salt to buy.”

            “Dean, I don’t-”

            “C’mon, I don’t have all day, touchy angel.”

            Castiel frowned but tapped him on the head. After a whooshing sound and a sudden moment of lightheadedness, Dean found himself in front of Mick, who was blinking at him in surprise.

            So was the woman behind him… in the line to pay and check out items.

            Crap.

            Friggin’ tactless angel!

 

 

John looked down at the article that had gotten Sam all worked up over the phone. It was dated a few days ago, mostly about a little kid in the hospital who had woken up after a horrible crash, both of his parents killed in said wreck. It was sad, but it wasn’t what was so interesting. No…it was this.

            _After much wondering about the whereabouts of the asked for ‘Dean’ by young Alex, Dean Winchester surprised everyone by coming to the hospital to check the boy out. Authorities are still trying to get in contact with the child’s great aunt, who is still out of the States, but so far they have had no luck…_

            The rest was unimportant.

            Dean. _His_ Dean, his little boy Dean, had been at the hospital to help a kid. What did that mean? At the moment, he couldn’t fathom it, was just so happy to have recent, real-life proof that his son was still alive and around.

            And somewhere in LA.

            Where the hot spot seemed to be…seemingly in the middle of what looked to be a demonic showdown between demons and vampires, which John feared what it meant.

            He had to get him out of there. Him and Sam needed to find Dean.

            He was going to bring his boy home, back to this family that missed him so much.

            After four years… he finally knew where Dean was. He was finally going to get him back.

 

 

Castiel’s orders were simple, at least in theory. Watch out for Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man. He wondered, briefly, how Dean could be so righteous when he spoke blasphemy, didn’t believe in angels, and was an actual vampire, which Castiel had thought were extinct but obviously not. He was to keep the human… er, vampire …out of harm’s way for the time being, until further instructions came from the angels above him, his bosses. God had some big plans for the Winchester, and Castiel was excited to be a part of everything, happy to finally be involved in a mission with a charge of his own.

            He’d never had a charge before.

            But he’d thought it’d be… different. He hadn’t been expecting the strange, somewhat rude, welcoming he’d gotten from Dean. He’d expected less resistance, perhaps a desire to serve God and the angels like any devout man would, since Dean was supposedly the Righteous Man. But who was he to judge? Humans were granted free will, after all, and could behave however they liked.

            He did see goodness within Dean, even though the Winchester hid it so deep as though he were ashamed of something, but what it was, Castiel didn’t know. He didn’t want to pry into Dean’s mind or soul. It surprised him a little that vampires had such souls, but he couldn’t judge. Vampires were once people, after all, just with a little altering… and mostly dead… but they still had a soul. The part of them that was still human did, anyway, and Dean Winchester’s soul was shining brightly, even through the darkness of being a vampire.

            He did want to keep Dean safe…but he did not know how to go about doing so. Dean didn’t want to stay in the apartment, where it was mostly safe, and he didn’t want to be out in that protected barn Castiel had created solely for the safe-housing of the Righteous Man. He did not know how to go about watching over someone who seemed suspicious all the time.

            Perhaps he would learn along the way.

            He fully accepted his new challenge.

 


	10. Reunion, Winchester Style Part 1

Chapter Ten: Reunion, Winchester Style pt 1

 

 

Chris Andrews looked up from the blood he was devouring as a man approached him. The scent in the air calmed his mind because this guy was just another vampire. He finished draining his victim, an accidental killing that couldn’t just go to waste, and then he stood, pulling his cell from his pocket. He sent a text to the Cleaner, the vampire lady and her cleaning crew who got rid of messes like this. She was greatly needed in the vampire world. As the person stood in the shadows, watching him, he finally sighed and completely faced them, his gray eyes flashing momentarily. “What do you want? I’m a little busy here.”

            “Where’s your sire?” the person asked. That was definitely a strange question, Chris had to admit. His sire hadn’t been around for more than a hundred years. It wasn’t like Chris was some stupid fledgling that needed to be coddled all the damn time. He knew what he was doing.

            “Why do you ask?” Chris replied, narrowing his eyes. The guy’s features became prominent as his vampire vision kicked in. It was a tall vampire with short hair and narrowed brown eyes that were so dark that they almost looked black.

            “Not around, then, is he?”

            Chris shrugged. “And if he’s not?”

            “I have a job for you.”

            Chris paused. “Do I get paid?”

            “In blood,” the vampire agreed.

            A smile slid across his face. “I’m listening.”

            “I need you to track down Charles Hubert, another vampire, and help him in his investigation of the vampire known as Dean Winchester. Whoever takes out the young vampire first will be greatly rewarded.”

            Chris smirked. “Sounds like a plan.”

            Normally he wasn’t one for killing his own kind, but if there were already vampires after this guy, then he was probably bad and deserved to get iced. Chris was willing to do this job… and be ‘greatly rewarded’.

            Screw finding Charles Hubert. He’d just do this job himself.

 

 

LA was a big city, but that wasn’t going to stop John or Sam in their search for Dean. Sam was determined not to be derailed by anything. This seemed to be the center of a lot of demonic activity, as well as vampire activity, and Sam was set on getting his brother out of this situation, whatever was happening. Nothing was going to stop him - nothing. He wouldn’t stop until he had his brother back with him.

            After so many years of searching, they were finally getting close. They were finally going to get some answers, and he was finally going to see his brother again… after so long of wondering, of thinking that maybe Dean was dead…

            Sam was going to see him again.

            He was so excited that he could barely focus. It was like he was eleven-years-old again at Christmastime. He wanted to get to his prize, except instead of tearing through the wrapping for his gift, he was intent on tearing through the city for his brother.

            The first place they stopped was the hospital, since that was where the little boy, Alex Michaels, had been when he’d talked about Dean. It was probably their best bet, and if this turned up nothing, they’d go to the newspaper office and question the journalist who had written the article.

            Hopefully something turned up here, though.

            Swiftly, they both walked through the halls, both of them tall and seemingly towering over every nurse that passed them by. Maybe they looked a little intimidating, but Sam didn’t mind. He was trying to find his brother, after all. He didn’t care what he had to do to find him, or how he had to act. If he had to act like a jerk to scare the information out of someone, then so be it.

            They approached the first large, circular desk area they came to. John smiled kindly at the woman working behind it, and she looked up at him and smiled back. “Can I help you?” she asked sweetly, glancing at the two of them.

            “We were just wondering,” Sam said innocently, giving her his ‘puppy dog look’, as Dean had dubbed it, “if maybe you had seen my brother? Dean Winchester?”

            Her eyes flew wide. “Dean is your brother?”

            Sam felt a vast amount of relief because she didn’t look confused. He seemed to know his brother and it gave him hope. “Yeah… I heard in the news that he’d taken a kid from here? Alex Michaels?”

            “Yeah,” she said with a nod, smiling. “We all thought Alex was making him up at first.” She look apologetically at him and John. “He’s just a little kid, after all, and we didn’t know who Dean was… but he wound up coming and Alex was so relieved to get out of the hospital.”

            “…Do you know where they went?”

            She shrugged. “Not really, no. He’s supposed to come by here tomorrow, though, so Alex can get a checkup.”

            Sam grinned at her. “Thanks, you’ve been really helpful.” He looked at John, who nodded at him. It was strange how they didn’t need to talk when it came to finding Dean. They both seemed to be on the same page there.

            It was settled - they would return tomorrow and get Dean back.

            No matter what.

 

 

Dean was so tired as he collapsed into his freezer. Alex, when he wasn’t mourning the loss of his parents, was an energetic little kid that never seemed to want to go to sleep. Dean had given into that pleading, puppy-dog look Alex had been giving him - much like Sam - and had agreed to play tag around the apartment… for _three damn hours_! He was tired. Finally, though, Alex had worn himself out and had crashed on the sofa. Dean had carried him upstairs and to the room he was staying in for the time being. As he thought back on it now, he made a mental note to tell Mick that they really needed to get the kid a bed if he was going to be staying here for a while.

            He still didn’t know how any of this was possible. How had the kid been put into his hands? His name at the hospital, on the kid’s medicine and files… it didn’t make any sense. He had a strange feeling that maybe Castiel had something to do with it. If he wasn’t an angel, then he was something powerful enough to do such a thing. He wasn’t a demon - this place was still salted, after all, even if there wasn’t nearly as much salt as before. But an angel? Dean still didn’t know if he believed it or not. Angels weren’t real, and they couldn’t be… right?

            Thinking about it was beginning to give him a headache. He decided not to think on it too much. Castiel… just _was_. He wasn’t a demon, and Dean had a really hard time believing he was an angel…

            However, he had managed to thoroughly put Mick and Dean in a tight spot at the grocery store earlier, what with his whole ‘making Dean appear next to Mick in front of an innocent bystander in line’ routine. It had taken a lot to convince the woman that it was just a joke, a trick, that Mick and Dena were magicians or something. She claimed to know Mick was a PI, though, that she’d read about him in the papers, so Mick had told her that Dean was a victim of theft in the magician world and Mick was interviewing him.

            Strange story, yes, but it was kind of funny what people would believe when they didn’t want to know the truth.

            Dean yawned and shook his head, closing his eyes for the night, the chill of the freezer surrounding him.

            It was strange, but it felt like home.

 

 

It was time for Alex’s checkup. Dean had promised he’d take Alex back to the hospital so he could be looked over and see how he was progressing. Yawning, Dean drank a little blood quickly as he listened to Alex and Mick moving around upstairs. Mick was trying to wake Alex which wasn’t an easy task when the kid stayed up until four in the morning playing tag. He wanted to sleep. Dean could relate.

            Finally, though, a minute after he’d finished his blood, Mick came down the stairs carrying the little kid, who was safely tucked away in his arms, sound asleep. “He won’t get up,” Mick said with a scowl. “He just grumbled something and rolled over.”

            Dean grinned, taking the kid from Mick’s arms so the elder vampire could drink some blood as well. “Yeah, kids are like that. Sammy never wanted to get up.” A touch of fondness slammed into Dean as he thought back on his childhood, on little Sammy. He missed his brother dearly, and his father, and Bobby… but he couldn’t see them again. The thought made him sigh sadly.

            “Everything okay?” Mick asked as he began drinking his blood.

            “Yeah,” Dean replied. “I’m fine.” After a moment, he looked at the clock and smiled at Mick. “You ready?”

            “Yeah,” Mick said, keeping his voice quiet so they didn’t wake the kid. Dean shifted the small form in his arms. It didn’t strain him like it would have if he had only been human. Instead, his vampire strength made it feel as though he were only lifting a warm pillow. He had to admit, though, that the warmth felt nice. He’d almost forgotten what someone living had felt like…

            They left the apartment and headed toward the hospital, having to walk simply because Mick still didn’t have a new vehicle and he didn’t like the public transportation. Dean slid his own jacket off and draped it around the sleeping form of the kid as a chilling breeze filtered through the city in the early morning hours.

            “Who schedules an appointment for _seven in the morning?_ ” Dean questioned, sliding his gaze toward Mick. As a vampire, he himself didn’t necessarily feel the cold, but the kid would, and since Dean’s body couldn’t necessarily offer him much warmth, he was willing to give the kid his jacket for the time being.

            Mick shrugged and smirked as they walked. Dean shook his head and continued walking.

            It was times like this he wished he had a car. _His_ car, to be precise. He missed the Impala. Surely they could use it now, right?

            He heard feathers behind him and he knew it was Castiel. Instinctively, he handed Alex to Mick and sighed. “Business awaits,” he said with a grimace as Castiel reached out and tapped his forehead. Before he knew it, he was rushed through the air so fast that his head started spinning. When he landed, he staggered somewhat and looked around, expecting to see the walls of the apartment again, but instead he saw only a dark alley.

            Raising a brow at the supposed angel, Dean frowned.

            “Okay… what gives? Why are we here?” he asked, looking around as though for a sign as to why they were in this particular alley. There didn’t seem to be anything special about it.

            “This.” Castiel waved his hand and the dumpster moved, revealing the drained corpse that was resting behind it. Obviously a vampire had been here, but it was sloppy. There was a jagged gash in the dead man’s neck, a sure sign of either deep hunger or hatred, Dean wasn’t necessarily sure which. He stared at the empty, pale face of the dead guy and then looked away. “Vampires are searching for you.”

            “…And you got all of this from a dead guy?” Dean asked, frowning.

            “No. I have been listening.”

            “Listening…? To what?” Did angels have their own version of rock music or something?

            “To the city.”

            “…Uh huh… and what’s it been saying?”

            “Vampires and demons are in town, and they are all searching for _you_. It is time to leave.”

            “Whoa, hold up,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I don’t see what anyone would want with _me_ , but I’ll bite. If they’re after me, let them come. Maybe then I can get some real answers or something.”

            “They don’t wish to talk, they wish to kill you.”

            “Why?” Dean asked, confused. Sure, supernatural creatures used to be trying to kill him all the damn time, but that was when he’d been a hunter. He hadn’t been in the game for a long time now, and he was a vampire. Why would fellow vampires wish him dead?

            Castiel frowned at him and paused. “It is said that you will save the world from the Apocalypse.”

            Dean stared at him. “Um… what?” he asked dumbly.

 

 

Sam released a breath as he and his father waited for Dean to show up with the little boy, Alex. They had a picture of the kid, but no one had taken any photos of Dean when he’d been here, which was fine. Sam knew what his brother looked like, after all. Narrowing his eyes, he watched as a man moved toward the front entrance of the hospital, a child held in his arms. That child looked eerily like Alex Michaels, even though he was fast asleep, but Dean wasn’t anywhere in sight. He sent a look toward his dad, and together they stood and followed the guy into the hospital. The nurses seemed to recognize him, for they let him and Alex right in without hesitation and got them a room. John nodded to Sam, jerking his head in the direction the guy had gone, and then turned toward a nurse to talk to her and distract her.

            Sam nodded to himself and quickly went down the hallway the guy had gone down. He spotted him a few rooms down, carefully placing the little boy on the bed in the room. After a moment of hesitation, Sam entered the room and glared at the guy, who turned to face him slowly, his eyes dark and looking confused.

            “Can I help you?” the guy asked simply, frowning at him.

            “Yeah, my brother was supposed to bring Alex in - so where is he?” Sam took a threatening step toward the guy, angrily narrowing his eyes. The anger he felt at being denied the opportunity to see his brother right now was being reflected in his gaze.          

            The guy blinked at him and then paused. “Dean? You’re Dean’s brother? Sam?”

            Sam frowned. “You… know me?”

            “Dean talks about you a lot,” the guy said with a shrug before he smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Mick St. John.”

            “Sam Winchester,” Sam said slowly, still frowning at the guy. He seemed sincere enough, but who could really tell these days? For all Sam knew, this was the sick psycho that had taken his brother away from him and had only left him a tired voicemail for his remaining memory. “So where’s Dean?”

            Mick shrugged. “No idea, honestly.” He paused, hesitating slightly. “You’re a hunter, right? Like your brother?”

            Sam was surprised Mick knew this much. “Yeah…”

            “Well, demons have been everywhere around the city lately… and an angel appeared and-”

            “Whoa, what?” Sam gasped, his eyes widening. “An angel? Honest to God angel?”

            Mick smirked. “You seem more eager to believe than your brother. Dean still doesn’t believe it. But there’s salt down and the angel still got in, so… it has to be an angel, right?”

            “Wait, got in where?” Sam asked, wondering where his brother was staying.

            Mick opened his mouth to answer but then stopped when his cell started to ring. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Hey, speak of the devil… you won’t believe who I’m talking to-” Mick started with a grin.

            Sam’s eyes widened. Was it Dean? Was that who Mick was talking to? Without thinking, Sam reached out and snatched the phone from Mick, who frowned at him in surprise.

            “Dean?” Sam asked hopefully into the phone. “Dean, is that you?” He prayed with everything that he had that he would now hear his brother’s voice, that this was actually Dean… that he’d finally found his brother after so many years of searching and running into nothing but hopeless dead ends. “Dean?”

            There was a long pause, and then finally:

            “ _Sammy_?”

            In his relief, Sam dropped the phone. Again.

 


	11. Reunion, WInchester Style Part 2

Chapter Eleven: Reunion, Winchester Style, pt 2

 

 

Mick watched as Dean’s brother, Sam, dropped the phone. It slid across the floor and under the bed Alex was resting on. Alex woke with a start, looking around in confusion. As his gaze landed on Sam, he started screaming and tried to get up and leave the room.

Mick frowned and jumped into action, grabbing hold of Alex and wrapping his arms around him to keep him from fleeing. Sam seemed to be in shock, staring into space, which didn’t seem normal but who was Mick to judge? For all he knew, Sam was a paranoid guy who often had moments of staring at nothing. Maybe he always dropped the phone. Or, maybe he was just surprised to hear Dean’s voice again after so many years? Mick frowned and sighed, looking at Alex who had stopped screaming but was still trying to get away.

“Alex, what’s wrong?”

            “Bad,” Alex whimpered, “bad, bad, bad…!”

            “Bad?” Mick echoed as Sam seemed to finally snap out of his daze. “How bad? What do you mean, Alex?”

            “Demons,” Alex cried, tears racing down his cheeks.

            “What do you mean?” Sam asked, frowning as he stepped forward, looking shaken as he bent down to pick up the phone. The battery had popped out and the call had been ended. That was just great. He was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he saw Dean again.

            “T-The angels said the demons would come when _you_ g-got here,” Alex sniffled, burying his face in Mick’s chest as though trying to hide from the world.

            “Me?” Sam echoed, looking shocked. “Why me? I… How do you know about demons? And angels?” He looked at Mick as though for answers.

            Mick shrugged. “The kid said angels told him to ask for Dean. It guess it only makes sense that he knows about demons as well.” He frowned. “And I don’t know what he means… Alex, what do you mean? What about Sam?”

            “The a-angels said h-he would be surrounded b-by demons,” Alex whispered shakily. “Please take me home. Dean.”

            “Dean?” Sam asked.

            “Take me to Dean.”

            Mick frowned, wondering what was so special about Dean that the kid wanted to go to him now, but he didn’t question it. After what Alex had been through, and then that whole business with the angels, he wasn’t going to question it. Nodding tightly, he stood from the bed. “I’ll reschedule your appointment and tell them you’re not feeling well.” He grabbed his phone from Sam’s hands and stuffed it and the battery into his pocket as he moved toward the door, holding Alex’s trembling form in his arms.

            “Wait!” Sam said, chasing after them. “Tell me about Dean - where is he? Where are you going?”

            Mick frowned, wanting to tell Sam, because he knew what it was like to want to speak with someone and not having a way to do so. But Dean had told him not tell Sam or his father anything, and he’d already let Sam talk to Dean on the phone, accidentally but still. It wasn’t his fault Sam had snatched the phone from him. But he had told Sam things and Dean had told him not to, so he already felt bad about betraying his friend’s confidence. Then again, shouldn’t family be together? Shaking his head, he walked a little faster.

“When he’s ready, he’ll call you,” he told Sam and then raced out of the hospital with his vampire speed. He heard Sam shout after him in alarm but he ignored it and ran with Alex. Alex’s head was snuggled into his chest tightly, and if he had any complaints or worries about the speed at which Mick was running, he didn’t mention it. Well, that was good, one less thing to worry about for the time being.

            Now how was he going to explain all of this to Dean without getting the younger vampire angry at him? Sighing, he shook the thoughts from his head and hurried onward. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was still running, but it didn’t matter. Alex wanted to go back to the apartment, back to Dean apparently, and he was going to make that happen as soon as possible, so long as he could.

            As it was, he was already halfway there. He was making good time, he figured, and Alex hadn’t looked up or questioned his speed or anything. That was nice, not being questioned. He was moving too fast for human eyes to really see him, and if they did, they would shrug it off as just their imagination, their minds playing tricks on them. It was amazing what some people would believe just to keep away from the truth of the supernatural creatures out there, like him, and apparently, demons and angels as well. Although, people probably wouldn’t mind the knowledge of angels among them. They’d probably rather enjoy it.

            Snorting to himself, he continued onward and made it back to the apartment in record time, even without a vehicle. Which reminded him, he needed to get another one. Or let Dean take out his beloved car, but he wasn’t so sure. That would draw attention and as vampires, they didn’t need any of that. Then again, most everyone - demons, angels, Sam - knew about them now, so was there really any point in hiding still?

            He shook his head and knocked loudly on the door, hoping Dean was in the apartment. If not, he would have to fumble with his key and fix his phone to call the younger vampire so he _would_ be at the house. Didn’t Castiel usual transport Dean into the apartment? At least that was what Dean told him when he was complaining about it.

            The door opened, thankfully, and Dean frowned at him. “What the hell, Mick? You should be at the hospital… and what the hell? You let Sam talk? When did you even _meet_ him and-”

            “Not now,” Mick cut him off. “Alex is freaked out.”

            “Why?” Dean asked as Mick entered the apartment. He closed the door behind him. Alex lifted his head and reached for Dean, causing Dean’s gaze to soften as he collected the small boy into his arms and held him tightly. “What’s wrong, Ali?”

            Mick frowned at the new nickname, but then again, Dean was always making up nicknames. For instance, Cas, Micky -and oh how he loathed that name-, Josey for Josef… Yeah, he loved making up nicknames. Logan was the only one that didn’t seem to have one as of yet, but then again, Dean had only met him like once or twice. Even the guy they got blood from had been dubbed the ‘Morgue Guy’ or Morgie.

            “Demons,” Alex murmured. “Bad, bad, bad…”

            “Yeah, that’s pretty much all he said to me, too.” Mick bit down on his lower lip, wondering if he should mention what Alex had said about Sam. “He, um… also mentioned Sam…” He figured it was best to just go ahead and say it rather than have Dean angry with him for not mentioning it when he found out later, because Mick had no doubts that he would find out eventually. Either Alex would tell him or Castiel would snitch on him.

            “What about him?” Dean asked absently as he moved toward the couch and placed Alex down.

            Mick sighed. “It can wait until Alex calms down, I guess,” he said reluctantly, but it was true. Alex was the important matter here.

            Dean nodded and looked down at Alex, who was nestled into his side, still trembling as though fearful, his eyes wide and rimmed with unshed tears. “What’s wrong, kiddo? What about demons?” He didn’t ask how Alex knew of them, Mick noticed. He probably figured the same thing as him, that the angels had also told him about it.

            “The angels… they s-said the demons would come…” Alex released a slow breath. “They said t-they would c-come when _he_ showed u-up…”

            “He?” Dean asked, frowning, glancing at Mick as though for answers.

            Well… maybe it wouldn’t wait.

            “He, um… means Sam,” Mick said with a nod. “That’s… what I was going to tell you. He freaked when he saw Sam at the hospital.”

            “Hospital? Is he okay?” Dean asked worriedly.

            “Yeah, he… was just looking for you. Knew about how you had picked up Alex or something like that.” Mick shrugged. “But anyway, Alex thinks that now that Sam’s here, demons are going to come. I don’t know how any of this adds up or ties together, but… maybe the angels are right?”

            Dean instantly shook his head sternly. “No. Sammy isn’t related with any demon business. I don’t even know why he’s here… he should be at college, like he always wanted.”

            “…You disappeared, Dean. Of course he went looking, he’s your brother,” Mick tried to reason, but it was like talking to a brick wall. All it did was give him a headache.

            Dean shook his head again. “No. He should be at college, with some wife and 2.5 kids.”

            Mick shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Well, either way, he’s here now. Do you… think that means your father is far behind?” He remembered Dean telling him that his father was a hunter as well. At the time, he’d thought it was only for vampires, but now he knew it meant practically everything supernatural. Dean seemed worried about his father finding him, so he thought it logical to ask.

            “God, I hope not,” Dean groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “That’s the last thing I need. He’ll kill me.”

            “He won’t-”

            “Why would he?” Alex cut in innocently, and it occurred to Mick then that he’d forgotten the kid was even still in the room. He wasn’t crying anymore but was listening to the two of them closely, as though distracting himself from his worries, which Mick could relate to.

            Dean and Mick went quiet for a moment and shared a look. As far as they knew, Alex didn’t know about them being a vampire, and Mick preferred to keep it that way. The kid was already dealing with demons and angels - he didn’t need vampires added to that list.

            “Nothing,” Dean said with a sigh. “My dad is just going to be mad at me for being gone for so long and not calling, that’s all…”

            “Oh,” Alex said quietly.

            Dean sighed and Mick wondered what they were going to do, what was going to happen next.

            Mick released a slow breath and readied himself for what he was about to say. “Maybe…it’s time for you to talk to Sam and your father again, Dean. It’s been years. They’ve obviously been looking for you, if they managed to actually track you down.”

            Dean shook his head. “It’s all wrong. Sammy should be at college and Dad…”He shrugged. “He might care _now_ but after he learns… about _me_ , then he’ll hate me and hunt me down.”

            Mick sighed and shook his head, wondering how he was going to convince Dean that he was wrong. Surely Dean’s father wouldn’t do that, right? Surely he wouldn’t hunt his son simply because he was a vampire. Family was family, right? Blood was blood. Besides, it wasn’t like he and Dean were bad vampires - they didn’t kill innocent people, they didn’t hunt people down for blood. The did none of that. They tried to help people and followed certain vampire rules that kept the vampire population - more than one would think - safe in LA.

            Shaking his head again, he decided he’d deal with that when and if it came. Maybe Dean would never be ready to face his family, and that was mostly Mick’s fault. He’d turned Dean, after all. A moment of weakness and his control had slipped. His hunger had taken over and he’d ended a life and had accidentally cursed someone to live as a vampire. Thinking back on it still made him cringe with guilt.

            “It wasn’t your fault,” Dean said as though reading his mind. Damn, perceptive guy. “You slipped. It happens.”

            Mick shook his head once more, deciding not to comment. They didn’t need Alex asking even more questions. As it was, the kid looked confused but wasn’t questioning it, thankfully. He decided it would be best if it stayed that way.

            A thought occurred to him. “You called when we were at the hospital… what did you want?” he asked, frowning.

            Dean stiffened and then looked down at Alex. “Hey, kiddo, why don’t you go lay down, huh? You look tired.”

            Alex nodded without a word and slid off the couch. Mick watched as the kid went up the stairs and disappeared from view. He could still hear him moving around, though, and nodded at Dean when he heard the couch upstairs creak, signaling the kid had done as Dean had said. How Dean was this good with kids, Mick didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to question it.

            “Cas and I were talking…”

            “Where did he take you?”

            “Same alley.” Dean shook his head. “Apparently, vampires are after me as well.”

            “After you? Why?” Mick asked with a frown, not understanding. What would any vampires want with Dean?

            Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Apparently, the angels, demons and apparently vampires have it in their heads that _I’m_ going to stop the damn _Apocalypse_.”

            Mick stared at Dean, waiting to see if he was kidding, because his mind couldn’t fully process it at the moment. The Apocalypse? He wasn’t so sure he believed in it, but the way Dean said it made him think he was serious. And Dean would have hammered Castiel for information. He wouldn’t have just taken it sitting down and as the honest truth. He would have thought he was kidding. So the fact that Dean even thought this could be remotely possible left Mick more than a little uneasy. Dean was the expert on things like this, Mick decided, not him. If Dean was believing it, then there had to be some truth to it.

            “Why you?” he finally murmured, sitting next to his friend on the couch.

            Dean shrugged. “Cas wouldn’t say. He clammed up like an oyster and zapped me back here before vanishing, damn him and his freaking fast wings.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I completely believe it… I mean, I don’t believe that _I’m_ going to be the one to stop it. I don’t see how they came up with that. But I do believe that maybe something is going to happen…maybe all the hype about the Apocalypse is real. Cas sure seems to think so, and as far as I know, he’s never steered me wrong before.”

            “So… what do we do now?” Mick asked uneasily.

            Dean sighed. “Welcome to the question.”

 

 

Sam was furious.

He’d let that Mick guy just run off without hearing where Dean was. He was worried, though, and frustrated. What had Alex meant when he’d been saying that Sam had something to do with demons coming? Sure, LA was a hotspot at the moment, but it wasn’t like Sam had anything to do with that. The demons had already been here before he’d arrived, so he couldn’t understand what the kid was trying to say. And why would the angels potentially tell him that? He wasn’t sure he believed that the kid had seen angels, but he was willing to believe it. He had to believe that there was good out there too, and it had definitely been a miracle that he’d heard his brother’s actual voice again for the first time in four years, not just some recording on a phone.

            And the other thing that was bothering him was the way that Mick had run off as he had. Who could possibly move that fast? It was almost inhuman, his speed. Almost supernatural, and it worried Sam. If Dean did really know this guy and they were friends or something, did he know that maybe Mick was something supernatural? Was he aware of it? If he was, then why was he still calling him?

            And the main thing bothering Sam at the moment was the fact that Dean was alive. He was alive and had sounded well on the phone, if not a little - more than a little - shocked to hear Sam’s voice, so why had he never called to let them know he was okay? Why had he never picked up his damn phone when Sam, John, and Bobby had tried over and over to call him? Why hadn’t he given them a sign?

            Were they really such a bad family that Dean didn’t see the point in calling them? Guilt ate away at Sam as he watched his father, who was sitting at a computer in the local library, looking up the name ‘Mick St. John’. They would find Dean one way or the other.

            And that whole ‘when he’s ready, he’ll call you’ bit? What was up with that? What did that mean? Why wouldn’t Dean be ready? He still had Sam’s number, right? That was what Mick’s statement was suggesting. It was looking more and more like Dean had willingly ignored their calls, had shut himself completely away from his family. Tears stung at Sam’s eyes guiltily and he knew he only had himself to blame. He hadn’t answered his brother’s calls, had never thought to call him back, and had left home angry. His final words to his brother had been in anger, and that mere thought had eaten away at him for years. Now, maybe that was what was keeping Dean away from him. Maybe his harsh words and bad behavior was why Dean didn’t want to talk to him. He and John were both to blame for that, for the way they had treated Dean and practically taken him for granted.

            Because they had always thought Dean would be there, that he was invincible or something. Which was why when Dean had disappeared so suddenly, it had come as a great shock to everyone. For a while, everyone was in denial it was happening. Sam could remember.

            Shaking the thoughts from his head, he vowed to himself that he would find his brother and he would make things right. He would let Dean know how much he meant to him, to this family, and that he would never be so harsh with his brother ever again. He would always pick up the phone and would always return his calls from now on, he swore.

            If he could just see his brother again…could just tell him those things…

            Sighing, he murmured, “Find anything?”

            “I think so,” John grunted. “I found Mick St. John’s address. It seems he’s a PI.”

            “Private investigator?” Sam frowned.

            “Yes.”

            Well, that explained why Dean would know him. They both appeared to be doing good and helping people, which was definitely Dean’s specialty. Still, though, there was something inhuman about Mick and he was going to warn his brother.

            “You think Dean will be there?” Sam asked.

            “If not, we’ll force this Mick guy to tell us,” John said harshly. “No one is going to keep me away from my son. No one.”

            Sam could agree to that.

            No one was going to keep them away from Dean.

 

 

Mick yawned as he entered the kitchen for some blood. It was early in the morning, not even eight yet, and he knew no one else would be up. Dean was known for sleeping in and the kid was probably no different, being only eight and all. Kids slept a lot, generally. They needed a lot of sleep to stay healthy. Shaking his head, he swallowed down a package of blood and wiped his mouth clean as he heard loud, incessant knocking at his door. Someone really wanted in.

            Frowning, he wrapped his robe tighter around him and moved toward the door, peering at the camera to see who was there. Two men, one he recognized and one he didn’t, but he could guess who it was. Prying the door open, he found Sam looking at him, an older man - Dean’s father, he figured - standing behind him. “Can I help you?” Mick asked.

            “You can tell us where Dean is right now,” Dean’s father growled, shoving Mick inside the apartment so he and Sam could both enter. Dean’s father slammed the door closed behind him. “Start talking, St. John.”

            Mick narrowed his eyes. “You can’t just come in here and order me around. I’ll have you fucking arrested.” Worried parent or not, there was no way he was going to put with this kind of behavior toward him in his own damn apartment. He’d throw the both of them out if he had to.

            “We’re sorry,” Sam said, looking sincere as he grabbed his father’s arm and pulled him back a few steps. “We don’t mean to intrude or anything…we’re just looking for Dean. You know him. Do you know where he is?”

            “I told you, when he’s ready, he’ll _call_ you-” Mick started.

            “Tell me where my son is right now, God damn it!” the father snapped angrily, taking a threatening step forward. Mick growled and narrowed his eyes at the man.

            Something creaked on the stairs and Mick could smell Alex, who was coming down sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. He turned to see the kid standing at the bottom of the stairs, yawning. “What’s going on?” Alex asked tiredly before he looked at who was there. His eyes widened and he took off toward the study, which made Mick mentally curse. How could the kid know where Dean’s freakin’ room was? It was mostly hidden, just a door surrounded by shelves, and the kid had never been back there before. Had the angels somehow shown him that too?

            Sam started after the kid. “Wait, Alex, is it? Everything’s okay.”

            Bottom line was, Alex was leading Sam to Dean’s room. And if Sam saw Dean asleep in the freezer, Mick wasn’t sure what would happen. So he coughed loudly and reached out, grabbing hold of Sam’s arm. “That’s my private study, if you don’t mind. Alex, could you come out here, please? These people won’t hurt you.”

            Sam stopped but glared at him slightly. Mick didn’t care.

            Mick could hear a door opening. _Crap… guess he found Dean’s room,_ he thought with a frown. Then he paused, because he could hear someone else. Footsteps. Dean was coming.

            “You should go,” Mick said, gesturing toward the door for Sam and the father, whose name he didn’t know. He thought maybe it was John but he wasn’t too sure. Dean had only mentioned it once. Mostly he referred to him as ‘Dad’.

            “No. We’re not going until you tell us where Dean is,” Sam said with narrowed eyes, clearly determined.

            Mick mentally groaned. Who knew that all Winchesters were as difficult and as stubborn as Dean? He should have gotten a memo or something.

            “Like I said, when he’s _ready_ , he’ll-” Mick started.

            “Why wouldn’t he be ready?” the father demanded.

            “Hey, Mick? What’s got Alex so-” Dean started as he entered the room, holding Alex to his chest. He stopped mid-sentence when his gaze landed on Sam and his father, who in turned stared back at him. What was with this family and staring? Mick sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand across his face.

            “Dean?” Sam asked hopefully as he took a timid step forward, as though maybe Dean would vanish if he wasn’t careful. “Dean, is that… really you?”

            “Sammy?” Dean murmured, frowning. Mick sighed and came around, taking Alex from him.

            In a voice so low that only Dean’s vampire ears could hear, Mick murmured, “Talk to them. It’s time, Dean. They’re your family. They might surprise you.” Then he smiled at the other two in the room. “I’ll, uh… leave the three of you alone to talk. Don’t break anything.” Then he ran upstairs, carrying Alex.

            _Hope everything goes okay,_ he thought to himself. Dean deserved it.


	12. Reunion, Winchester Style Part 3

Chapter Twelve: Reunion, Winchester Style, pt 3

 

 

Dean wasn’t sure how he could have missed it, how he could have missed the fact his brother and father were in the apartment. Sleep had been clogging his mind, though. The only reason he’d woken was because he had felt Mick’s worry through their bond, the bond between sire and fledgling. Mostly they could block it out, except when they were distracted… or sleeping. And thus Dean had woken and had exited his small room to find Alex tugging at his door, a panicked look in his eyes.

So he blamed the fact that Mick’s worry had been clouding his mind and he’d still been practically asleep on the fact that he hadn’t noticed his family was there, that he hadn’t smelled them or something, or even sensed them in the slightest. Now, though, he was completely and utterly awake. He was vaguely aware of Mick disappearing up the stairs with Alex, leaving him alone to face the family he hadn’t spoken to in four years.

            “Uh…” he stammered shakily, taking in a slow breath even though technically he didn’t need to breathe. “Hi, guys…”

            “Dean!” Sammy cried cheerfully, relief sparking across his face as he lunged forward, too quickly for Dean to react even as a vampire. His little brother’s arms were thrown around him and he was crushed against a warm body. His mind blanked in shock and in that warm feeling of a living body against his, and unconsciously he brought his arms up and wrapped them around his brother in response. He’d missed Sammy. He really had. “Is it really you?” Sam asked as he pulled back, grabbing onto Dean’s shoulders as he looked him in the eye, his gaze searching his happily, as though he’d finally found something he’d been looking for.

            “Well I’m not a ghost,” Dean said, smiling faintly. “It’s so good to see you, Sammy.” His gaze slid toward John, who had stepped toward them. He flinched when John raised his arms, expecting to be hit, that maybe somehow Dad knew what he was, but John’s arms only came around him lovingly, crushing him in a tight hug as he was torn out of Sam’s grasp. Shock expanded through Dean at the close contact, as John had never _ever_ been the hugging type, not since he was four-years-old and Mary was still alive. “D-Dad?” he stammered stupidly.

            John said nothing, only crushed him tighter to him like he was a reassuring pillow in the middle of a long nightmare. Dean slid his gaze toward Sam, silently asking ‘what the hell?’ but his brother just smiled, all teary eyed. _What’s going on?_ Dean wondered as he brought his arms around his father as well, at least as much as he could with the way John was crushing him. A moment later, John finally released him and Dean stepped back, eying his father strangely.

            “What’s gotten into you?” he asked cautiously, unsure as to whether or not he should be worried. Was John possessed or something? No, that didn’t make sense. There was salt down in the apartment. Demons couldn’t get in. So what was up with John and his tight hugs? Dean hadn’t been hugged like that since he was four-years-old, right after his mother’s death.

            “You vanished on us,” John said, narrowing his eyes on him, “that’s what ‘got into me’. What the hell, Dean? What happened? Are you okay?”

            Sam nodded vigorously, meaning he had the same questions.

            Dean frowned. “What? I’m fine,” he said slowly, shaking his head. “Nothing… well… it’s complicated.”

            “Well, un-complicate it,” John said. “We’ve been looking for you for four fucking years, Dean!”

            Dean frowned even more. “Really?” he asked, unable to contain his shock or keep the word from escaping his mouth. It was just that he couldn’t believe that his family had really been searching for him for that long. For a little while, sure, but four years? All this time?

            “Why do you sound so shocked?” Sam asked, frowning deeply, and then his expression twisted in guilt. “Did you really think we wouldn’t look for you?”

            Dean shrugged. “I just figured you guys had better things to do, that’s all,” he replied honestly. “Why are you out of school? I thought you’d be married with 2.5 kids by now, Sammy.”

            Both John and Sam looked at him with saddened, guilty expressions, and it was seriously beginning to freak him the hell out. He narrowed his eyes at them and tried to read them like he used to be able to do, but the most he could get was that they just felt immensely guilty about something, and he had no idea what it could be. Since when did either of them feel guilty about anything? They never seemed to regret any of their choices and always seemed to know what was best for them. Dean had always envied them for that, because he was always somehow second-guessing himself, it seemed.

            “You’re my brother,” Sam said strongly, “I can’t just stay at college while you’re missing, Dean! How could you think…? Was I really that bad of a brother that you thought I could just _forget_ or something?”

            Dean frowned at him deeply. “I never could think you were a bad brother, Sam,” he said sincerely, because that was true. But yes, he had thought that Sam would eventually forget all about him. Hell, he practically had at the time, right? He hadn’t been answering Dean’s calls and he hadn’t called him back. He had been living in a happy, brother-free world, so it wasn’t that wrong for Dean to think he would stay there, right? “But why didn’t you stay at college? You worked so hard to get there, Sammy, to get out of this life.”

            Sam looked shaken and close to tears. That wasn’t right. Sammy wasn’t supposed to cry, ever. He wasn’t supposed to look this upset, and come to think of it, neither was John. Because his father’s eyes were misty as well and it was seriously beginning to scare Dean. What was going on with his family? What had changed in the time he’d been gone? “Dean,” Sam said as he slowly shook his head, as though struggling to find the words he wanted to say. Then again he’d always been like that, making sure everything, even his words, were perfect. “You’re my brother - do you get that? There was absolutely no way I could stay at school while you were gone! How could you even think I would?”

            Dean sighed and rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. Suddenly everything he’d previously thought seemed wrong, especially with the way Sam was repeating it back to him. “I’m sorry,” he said, shrugging, “I just thought it wouldn’t…be that big of a deal? You already had your own life, Sammy, you didn’t need to come looking for me. You should have stayed at college, where you wanted to be.”

            Sam looked ready to explode. The guilt in his eyes greatened tenfold but Dean could also detect his rage in the way his face grew red. Before Sammy could start shouting, however, John interrupted. “Dean, we missed you.”

            It was sudden. Dean blinked at his father and frowned.

            “I missed you guys, too,” he told them honestly. There hadn’t been a day that went by that he didn’t miss them, didn’t miss his old life. “But… seriously, Dad, what are you guys doing here?”

            “You were _missing_ , Dean,” John said, as though Dean couldn’t grasp what that meant. It only confused him further. “We had to look for you. We never stopped searching. When we finally got a lead that you were in California, in LA, we came to find you.”

            Dean didn’t know what to say to that. ‘Thanks’ didn’t seem like it would be very appreciated, even though that was exactly what he wanted to say at the moment. He wanted to thank his family for not forgetting about him as he’d expected them to do. Maybe he’d been wrong about them, misjudged them or something… but honestly, the way they were acting now was all so foreign to him.

            He swallowed. “Why are you two acting so weird?”

            Again, his father and brother shared a look. “What do you mean?” Sam asked, frowning deeply, his earlier rage dissipating quickly, replaced with confusion.

            Dean shrugged, unsure as to how to explain it. “You’re just… well …I don’t know.” His gaze slid toward John. “You _hugged_ me, and I don’t think you’ve done that since I was a little kid.” He looked at Sam. “You look guilty and you usually don’t. I don’t know… it’s just kind of weird. What’s going on?”

            “We were worried about you,” Sam said quietly. “We didn’t know if you were alive or dead! Not like you ever _picked up the phone_!”

            The tone of his little brother’s voice made Dean narrow his eyes and get defensive. “Hmm, wonder how that feels, eh, Sammy?” he snarked, keeping the growl from his voice.

            Immediately, Sam backed down and swallowed thickly, that guilty expression consuming his face once more. Dean blinked at the sudden change, because usually Sammy was all for a fight. Him and John had sure gotten into them often enough. Dean had always had a horrible time breaking them up. It usually just left both of them angry with him for getting in the middle of their stupid argument. Now, though, Sam was just kind of staring at him in that hurt kid brother kind of way.

            “Dean,” Sam said in a somewhat choked voice, which really gave Dean pause, “I’m so _sorry_.”

            Now _that_ freaked Dean out. “What?” he asked stupidly, blinking at his little brother. What was Sam talking about? What was he sorry about? “Why are you sorry?”

            “For…not answering!” Sam blurted quickly, eyes misting again. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer or call you back! Okay? I’m sorry!”

            Dean frowned. “Sam, what-” he started but was cut off.

            “I should have answered, Dean, and I know that now,” Sam said, looking at him with those wounded eyes of his. Damn puppy-dog look. “I’m so sorry I didn’t!”

            “Me too, Dean,” John said, cutting into the conversation, and Dean’s shocked gaze slid quickly toward his father, his eyes wide.

            What. The. Hell?

            John was sorry, too? For not answering? What was going on with his family? Dean was seriously freaking out now. This just wasn’t like his family at all. “What?” he asked stupidly again. He seemed to keep repeating himself.

            “We both should have answered,” John told him guiltily, “and we’re both so sorry, Dean. We’ll always answer from now on, okay? _Always_.”

            That seemed like a huge promise coming from his father. He narrowed his eyes. “Cristo.”

            “We’re not possessed!” Sam snapped, narrowing his eyes. “God, is it so hard to believe that we _care_ , Dean? Were we actually that bad of a family?”

            Dean frowned at him. “Sam, I know you guys care, but you are both acting so strange-”

            “Why, because we’re actually _showing_ that we care?” Sam questioned, watching him. “Because we’re sorry, Dean! We should have…”

            “We should have shown it all along,” John said, picking up for his son while he clamped a hand down on Sam’s shoulder.

            Dean blinked at them for a long moment. “Cristo.”

            “We’re not possessed!” Sam shouted again. “Okay? We’re not! I know I was a horrible brother, Dean, and I’m so very sorry. I know I screwed up and I know I took you for granted.”

            “We both did,” John piped up.

            This was all making Dean’s head spin. He needed to eat so he didn’t lose it.

            But he couldn’t with them here. No way was he showing them he was a vampire. They’d kill him, no matter how much they said they cared.

            “But we’re sorry,” Sam continued for him and his father both. “We’d… We’d take it back if we could, Dean, you have to know that. Let us make it up to you now.”

            Dean slowly shook his head, still very confused. “There’s nothing to make up, Sam. You guys didn’t screw up.”

            “We did,” Sam insisted. “So badly. We… I ignored you. After all you did for me my whole life, I ignored you. I left, didn’t answer, didn’t return your calls, didn’t talk to you… I’m sorry.”

            “Christ, Sam, okay! Okay, I forgive you, now can we just stop this damn chick-flick moment before we all lose our manhood?” Dean griped, grimacing at the two of them.

            John smirked. Sam laughed, honestly laughed, and Dean had to admit that it was good to hear that sound again.

            “We missed you,” John said again.

            “Missed you guys too,” Dean said.

            “Why didn’t you ever call, Dean? Or answer? You still have the phone, right?” Sam asked.

            Dean paused and wondered exactly how to answer. “Yeah… I kept it. Just in case…”

            “In case what?” John questioned, frowning at his son.

            He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. Just in case. Like if something happened or… I don’t know.”

            “You changed your voicemail,” Sam said, smiling. “After four years. That’s how we found you.”

            Dean frowned. “Changed my…? What? No I didn’t.”

            “Yes you did,” Sam said, “that’s how we found you.”

            “But I didn’t,” Dean protested, and then frowned. “Shit. I must have grabbed the wrong phone and made that voicemail.” He shook his head.

            “You didn’t mean to give us a sign?” Sam asked, frowning. John, too, was frowning and looked upset. Dean wasn’t used to this at all. His family shouldn’t have ever looked this upset.

            Dean slowly shook his head. “Sorry… but no. My new phone just looks a lot like my old one… I must have gotten them mixed up or something.”

            “Why wouldn’t you answer? Didn’t you want to talk to us?”

            “Of course I did, Sam,” Dean said sincerely. “I thought about it every day.”

            Something like relief echoed across his family’s faces. “Then why…?” Sam continued.

            “I don’t know, Sammy… I just… thought it would be easier, I guess.”

            “Easier? How? We thought you were dead, Dean!” John snapped.

            Dean flinched. “I know. And I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you, I just…”

            “Was it Mick?” Sam asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Did he stop you from contacting us? Did he do something?”

            “What? No,” Dean said, shaking his head, but it seemed Sam wasn’t listening anymore.

            “He’s not human, Dean.”

            Dean stared at him, hoping Sam didn’t know. “What do you mean?”

            “He moved fasted than is possible at the hospital,” Sam told him. “I don’t know what he is, yet, but he’s not human. He can’t be trusted.”

            And there went any hope that maybe his family would accept him if they learned he was a vampire. Apparently supernatural things, even family, couldn’t be trusted. Dean swallowed and then narrowed his eyes. “He’s my friend,” Dean said. “He can be trusted.”

            “He’s not human,” John said, as though that ended that argument, but it was far from it.

            “So?” Dean snapped before he could stop himself.

            John and Sam blinked at him. “Dean…” Sam started. “He’s supernatural. A monster. Not human.”

            “So what? He’s still a good guy, Sam. He’s not bad. He helps people, just like we do. And he’s my friend and you’re in his apartment, so show him a little fucking respect!” he snapped, glaring. He didn’t like it when people insulted his friend, even if they were family. Plus he didn’t like that his family was judging supernatural creatures so harshly, even though he used to be just like them. He’d known they would, though, which was why he hadn’t contacted them in the first place.

            They stared at him in shock. Then John spoke. “Supernatural creatures can’t be trusted, son.”

            Dean growled under his breath. “If that’s how you feel,” he snapped, looking at both John and Sam, “then you both can just leave. Get out.”

            “Dean,” Sam protested, “we’re family!”

            “Yeah? Well, you’re insulting my friend in his own home.”

            “You’d choose that monster over your own family?”

            He could feel himself losing his temper. He really needed to feed and that blood in the refrigerator was very tempting. He got moody when he hadn’t eaten. “Family, Sammy? Well, _family_ didn’t seem to matter to you when you ditched us for Stanford, now did it? No, you did everything you could to get away, didn’t you? You couldn’t even pick up the damn phone! So don’t you _dare_ talk to _me_ about _family_!”

            “Dean,” John said while Sammy blinked at him with great hurt evident in his eyes.

            “Like you’re any better!” Dean growled, switching his annoyed gaze toward his father. His hunger was really starting to get to him. “Family didn’t seem to matter to you when you just took off in the middle of the fucking night! You didn’t bother to call or tell me where you were going! You didn’t pick up the damn phone either! So don’t either of you talk to me about _family_ , because _I_ was the only fucking one who was loyal and stuck around! _I_ tried to keep us together, but you both just pulled apart and vanished and wouldn’t fucking _talk_ to me! Now get out!”

He spun around, his back toward his family, the family he had missed so much. He could feel his fangs protruding from his gums, both from his anger and hunger. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to calm himself enough to take control of his fangs and shove them back inside his mouth for the time being.

            “Dean-” Sam started shakily.

            “I believe he said to leave,” came Mick’s voice from the stop of the stairs. His sire walked down them and frowned at him and said in a voice low enough only a vampire could hear, “Do you really want them to leave?”

            Swallowing, all Dean could do was nod as blood-red tears filled his eyes. He closed his eyes again in an effort to calm himself. It didn’t quite seem to be working. He really needed to feed so he could control his emotions.

            “Well,” Mick said, moving around him to face John and Sam, “you heard him. Leave. You’re upsetting my friend and roommate.”

            Dean wasn’t sure what happened after that. All he knew was that he had to get _out_ of there so he raced upstairs and released a snarl as he entered Mick’s room and slammed the door closed, not wanting Alex to come out of his room and see him like this. He paced the length of Mick’s freezer and prodded lightly at his fangs, growling lowly as he did so. How could his family not even give Mick a chance? He could see John instantly turning him away, but Sammy too? He’d thought Sam might have been a little different… but now he could see that his family would never accept him like this, as a vampire.

            They’d kill him.

            He was something supernatural. He was a monster, a vampire, part the undead, something to be destroyed.

            Blood had nothing to do with it.

 


	13. Wanted Dead, Not Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realize that in Moonlight there isn't a 'bond' between a sire and fledgling or whatever, but I put one in here, so... Deal with it :3 And I would love feedback!

Chapter Thirteen: Wanted - Dead, Not Alive

 

 

Mick sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Sam and John had finally left after much shoving, shouting, and angry words. They didn’t want to leave, they’d wanted to talk to Dean but wasn’t it obvious Dean didn’t wish to speak to them at the moment? Mick had tried not to listen in, but it was hard when they were yelling and he had vampire hearing. So he’d heard the shouted parts of conversation, which surprisingly had been a lot of it. And he was somewhat angry with them as well… or maybe that was just Dean’s anger and disappointment seeping through their bond. He forced the wall down around the bond so he could taper off Dean’s emotions and figure out what he himself was feeling in this situation. He still felt mad. Hmm.

            But thankfully, they’d left. Or, more accurately, he’d shoved them into the hall and had managed to get the door closed in time. After a half hour of them growling obscenities on the other side and threatening to call someone, they finally left and Mick was grateful. He was getting too old for this, he decided.

            Now Mick found himself sitting heavily on the couch, running a hand through his hair. Footsteps echoed down the stairs and he knew Dean had finally joined him again. “They leave?” Dean asked quietly from behind him, headed toward the kitchen area.

            “Yeah,” Mick said with a nod. “Go ahead and eat, you’re getting moody and leaking everywhere.”

            ‘Leaking’ meaning their bond. But that was partially Mick’s fault too, as he had been distracted on trying to get Sam and John out. Even so, Dean’s anger, hurt, and discomfort had screamed through the bond when he’d been shouting at his family, which was partially why Mick had come back down in the first place. That, and he didn’t want his neighbors or something calling the cops on them for shouting all the time. Plus it had been pretty clear Dean was hungry and angry and ready for them to leave, family or not.

            Dean grumbled something low in response and tore open the refrigerator. Mick stood and turned, watching as his friend drank greedily and then even reached for another package. “Hungry?” he asked, lifting a delicate brow, because usually Dean’s hunger was sated with just one package.

            Dean flipped him the finger and continued drinking. Then he finished, wiped at his mouth, and tossed the discarded packages in the trash. He sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face before he promptly disappeared into his room and dressed properly, no longer in his night clothes, I.E. his robe. Then he moved toward the door.

            “Where are you going?” Mick asked cautiously, unsure as to his friend’s state of mind.

            “Out,” Dean snapped.

            Still angry, then.

            “Alright,” Mick said, raising his hands in his defense. “Just… be careful and keep the bond open, okay? It’s not entirely safe out there.”

            “It never is,” Dean growled beneath his breath, but he nodded. “Alright. I’ll keep it open. Bye.” Then he stepped outside and disappeared from view as he shut the door behind him.

            Mick shook his head and pulled out a book as he sat down on the couch. It was going to be a long day.

            Papers flew across the room in a haphazard pattern as the sound of flapping wings entered the room. Mick flinched in surprise and then glared up at the dark-haired angel before him, narrowing his eyes. “Nice of you drop in,” he drawled.

            Castiel blinked at him. “Thank you. Where is Dean?”

            “What, you mean you don’t have some sort of weird tracking device on him? He went out for a walk after his family showed up. Leave him alone for a while and let him calm down,” Mick said with a shrug.

            Now the angel frowned. “His family? Sam Winchester is here?”

            “Well, yeah, he’s his brother,” Mick said, frowning at him. What was so bad about this Sam guy? Granted, Mick didn’t really like him all that much, but he had his own personal reasons. It was a sire thing, he figured, because he didn’t like it when people, even family, upset his sired. He was really beginning to get a bad feeling about Sam, what with Alex freaking out about him, the shouting match Dean had had with them, and now this, the angel mentioning him as though worried. “Why?”

            “Sam Winchester is demonic.”

            “He made it in here just fine,” Mick pointed out, because the apartment, although not as demon-proof as it once had been, was still that and demons - and according to Dean, ghosts - couldn’t get in due to the salt. It still surprised Mick that it worked - he’d always thought it was just a myth or something, something people did for good luck, throwing salt over their shoulder.

            “This is not good,” the angel commented, his expression thoughtful.

            “What’s not?”

            Yeah, he really didn’t like the sound of this.

            “Sam should not be here. He is demonic. Where did you say Dean was?”

            “He went for a walk to clear his head.”

            He was still doing that, as far as Mick knew. He could still residual anger within him that was not his own, and thus had to be coming through their shared bond. He’d never questioned the bond before, had barely even asked Josef about it because the elder vampire had just laughed and clapped him on the back as though in congratulations, which yeah, was very strange.

            That was a small problem of the bond, though - the fact that his own emotions would be altered as well due to leakage, or at least that was what he and Dean called it, where emotions rubbed off through the link.

            “I will go find him,” Castiel said.

            “No, don’t-” Mick started, but the angel had already left with a flap of his wings and a gust of wind. He muttered to himself and shook his head, knowing that Dean was not going to be happy about the angel showing up. He was sure he’d know exactly when the angel did appear, because the link would let him know when Dean’s anger spiked.

 

 

Dean shoved his hands into his pockets, his anger and annoyance still echoing through him. How could Sam and his father act like that? Sure, his father, he would. But Sammy? Wasn’t Sammy the forgiving one? The ask questions and shoot later kind of guy? What had gotten into him? Then again, maybe Dean had just misjudged them all along. Maybe no matter what, they were going to kill supernatural creatures. It didn’t matter if they were family. He was stupid to think they would accept him as a vampire.

            Sighing heavily, he rounded a corner and nearly crashed into the trench coat wearing angel. He scowled at him, narrowing his eyes. “What the hell, man? What do you want?”

            “Sam is here.” He said it like a statement, not a question.

            “Yeah,” Dean said, frowning. What did it matter?

            “Then it is not safe. The demons will come now, and your brother is dangerous.”

            Dean scoffed. “Sammy’s not dangerous, and what’s with everyone thinking he’s with the demons or something? Why did you guys put that thought in Alex’s head? Now he screams every time he sees Sam.”

            “It is the truth,” Castiel told him quietly.

            “Truth my ass,” Dean muttered. “Sammy’s not related with any demons or demonic business, okay? Stop spreading lies.”

            “Dean-” Castiel started.

            “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to talk about Sam or my father right now, okay?”

            Castiel frowned but nodded slowly. “Very well, but we will have to discuss this eventually.”

            “Figures,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Was there something else you wanted?”

            “It is not safe out here.”

            “So you’ve said.”

            “I will take you home-”

            “No thanks,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I want to walk around for a bit. I’ll be fine and go home later.”

            “It is not-”

            “Safe, I know,” Dean finished for him with a heavy sigh. “You’re welcome to join me if you want, but I’m not going back until I’m good and ready.”

            Castiel paused and seemed to think this over. “Very well, I will join you.”

            “Alright. Then let’s get walking.” Dean moved forward and Castiel followed after him.

            It was weird to think of himself walking next to an angel, an honest-to-God angel.

 

 

 

Sam felt horrible. He knew he shouldn’t have brought up an argument with his brother, but he honestly hadn’t expected Dean to explode as he had. He never had before, at any rate. Was he honestly that bad of a brother to Dean? He hadn’t really thought too much about it before Dean had disappeared, but he knew he’d treated his brother wrongly, had shunned him even though he wasn’t at fault. John and Sam had been the ones fighting, not him and Dean, and he shouldn’t have taken it out on his brother like that, with not answering the phone or talking to him. Dean’s words from Mick’s apartment hurt him deeply, stinging him all the way to the core, but he knew he deserved to hear them, deserved to hear how much he’d wronged his brother.

            Maybe it was too late to ever make things right, because sure, they’d found Dean, but things were never going to be the same again. He and John had a lot to make up for, so many apologies to make, and Sam wasn’t even sure if Dean would ever truly forgive them. How could he, after so many years of being wronged as he had been? To Sam’s knowledge, he’d always taken his brother for granted, had ignored his calls simply because he always thought Dean would be there, would answer if he should happen to call him back. He was very wrong to think that way, but he had, when he’d been in college. It was part of the reason why he was able to stay there, because he knew Dean would be there for him if he was needed.

            But Dean had thought he _wasn’t_ needed, and that wasn’t right. He’d just gotten left behind in the parting of his family, and neither John nor Sam had bothered to pick up the stupid phone or return his calls. They’d both just left him in the cold, had practically shunned him, so it wasn’t all the surprising that Dean had done the same.

            But what about Bobby? Dean hadn’t answered for Bobby either, and Bobby had never done anything wrong. Bobby had always answered, had always been there for him, at least to Sam’s knowledge. Bobby had been the last person to speak to Dean before he’d disappeared, too. Why would he have not answered for Bobby as well?

            It was all bothering Sam.

            Another thing that was bothering him was the fact that Dean had chosen Mick’s side over that of his own family. Sure, him and John hadn’t been _much_ of a family to Dean in a long time, but they were still blood. Blood chose blood, right? So why had Dean stood up for the inhuman, supernatural creature that Mick was? He’d even gone so far as to say that they were friends, and Sam knew the old Dean that he knew never would have gone for it. The old Dean would have killed the supernatural creature on sight, he wouldn’t have befriended it. So this new Dean and this new behavior was very confusion, and frankly Sam didn’t know what to do. He felt as though he were standing on shaky ground and he didn’t know how to move or where to go next.

            “I don’t get it,” John said suddenly, breaking the suffocating silence of the hotel room. “Why would Dean be friends with someone who is not human?”

            “I don’t know,” Sam answered truthfully.

            “Why would he shout at us like that?”

            The old Dean wouldn’t have.

            “We deserved it,” Sam said quietly, because they did. It hurt to hear how much they had both hurt Dean when they’d pulled away, but they had definitely deserved that pain after what they had done to Dean.

            “We’re his family, he shouldn’t have yelled like that,” John stated.

            Sam shrugged. “He’s changed - hell, we all have.”

            He knew he’d changed a lot these past few years. He’d become more like his father than he ever would have thought possible, but they’d both had a common goal in mind - get Dean back. That had brought them closer together, being the only two remaining Winchesters.

            But now Dean was back, and Sam couldn’t help feeling like they were losing him all over again.

            And maybe, a part of him whispered, they deserved it.

            “What are we going to do?” Sam asked quietly, looking at his father as though for guidance.

            John paused for a moment and then shook his head. “We have to get him out of there. He may think it’s safe to stay there but it’s not, if Mick truly isn’t human. We have to get him out of there, Sammy, and get our Dean back.”

            Sam nodded slowly in agreement. Sure, Dean said Mick was his friend, but he was probably just confused. He must have been here for four years and obviously Mick had brainwashed him into thinking it was safe or something, because the old Dean never would have done that - _ever_. The old Dean was a hunter through and through.

            And they were going to get the old Dean - _their_ Dean - back no matter what, even if they had to drag him out of there and away from the dangers Mick possibly could inflict upon him if he so desired.

            It was the only way to keep their fractured family together. And then they could make things up to Dean for being so horrible to him before.

            It was the only way.

 

 

Chris grinned predatorily as he found his prey, the vampire Dean Winchester. He was walking with some other guy in a long trench coat and dark hair. He didn’t bother trying to figure out who it was - he was just going to go ahead and do what he was told to do, and then collect his reward. He wasn’t sure what Dean had done to the vampire world to warrant his death, but he didn’t really care. Obviously it had been something horrible.

            He just had to wait until he was alone, but as he followed them for several blocks, it seemed the dark-haired guy wasn’t leaving any time soon. That caused Chris to scowl because he really just wanted to get this job done and over with so he get rewarded and get out of here. He came up behind them and followed them as they made yet another turn, and then he leapt at the targeted vampire, tackling him to the ground. Before he could so much tear at his throat or even growl, he was flung away from Dean by a supernatural force, and he slammed into a nearby dumpster. Looking up in a rage, he found the dark-haired made coming toward him with an emotionless expression on his face.

            “You are not to touch him,” the man stated gravely.

            “Who are you, his bodyguard?” Chris sneered as he leapt toward the man. He didn’t smell like a vampire, so he should be easy to take out, right? Except the guy vanished into thin air and he tackled nothing but oxygen and collapsed to the ground, looking around in utter confusion. The man appeared behind him, grabbed him by the back of the shirt, and flung him violently through the air as though he were nothing. He crashed harshly into the wall, and as he scrambled to his feet, Dean came toward him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the wall and pinning him there.

            “Who are you?” Dean growled, his green eyes searching his face a red shield slid over the green, fangs protruding from his mouth.

            “None of your business.”

            “Why are you after me?” Dean countered with another question.

            “You’ve been targeted, vampire,” Chris growled venomously.

            “By who?”

            “All I know is, it’s spreading through our vampire world. You are to be _taken out_ and quickly!” He tore free in Dean’s moment of shock as the words registered, and in that moment, Chris lunged at him, tearing violently at his throat with his sharp nails as they grew outward and to a razor-sharp point. Blood, dead and cold, slid down the throat and Chris smirked in triumph before Dean retaliated with a harsh slice at his head. Nails slid through the flesh and skull of his head and Chris fell back, stunned and confused as blood slipped easily down his face like a crimson waterfall.

            Dean fell back and clutched at his throat, glaring at him. “Cas,” he said, calling to the dark-haired guy, “heal him.”

            Heal him? What? Chris was confused and his mind was blanking due to his head wound. He couldn’t understand what Dean was saying or why.

            “Dean-” the guy, Cas, started to protest.

            “Do it,” Dean snapped, “or I’m not letting you help me.”

            “Very well,” Cas sighed as he moved toward Chris. Chris tried to move but he was already up against a wall. Two fingers pressed against his head and suddenly the pain vanished.

            And everything went black.

            He would wake hours later, fully healed and alone, and utterly confused as to why the targeted vampire would help him.

 

 

Pain sparked through the bond and Mick frowned. A sudden, flapping sound had him spinning around to find Dean and Castiel standing in the middle of the living room. Blood coated the collar of Dean’s shirt and down one side of his shoulder, but there didn’t appear to be a wound. Mick frowned and moved toward them. “What happened? Are you okay? Why is there blood?”

            “Got into a fight,” Dean said with a shrug. “Got a little bloody but I’m fine now. Turns out, the vampires really _are_ after me. They sent a freakin’ hit-man!”

            “What?” Mick asked, blinking at him in confusion. “Why would they do that? Are you really okay?”

            “Yeah, Cas fixed me up - thanks, Cas,” Dean said, turning to look at the angel. Castiel nodded slowly.

            “I told you it was not safe,” he said with a sigh.

            “Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. But why would they be after me? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?”

            “Not that I know of,” Mick said. “Why now, though?”

            “It’s because the demons have gotten to them,” Castiel said surely. “They must have talked to some of the vampires and stated it would be better if you were dead, better for everyone, and those vampires told others and now it is sort of a ‘manhunt’.”

            “That’s just _great_ ,” Dean said with a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “My life sucks, even in death.”

            “We’ll figure it out,” Mick promised. “Maybe I can talk to Josef and he can talk to the others. After all, they have to listen to him - he’s powerful and is one of the oldest vampires I know.”

            “Maybe,” Dean murmured, sighing again. “But what if he’s in on it, too?”

            “Josef?” Mick asked, blinking at him. “He wouldn’t do that, Dean. You know that. You know him.”

            “I guess so.” Dean shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just… confused. I don’t get what’s so damn special about me that everyone I know wants me dead.”

            “Not everyone,” Mick said.

            “Hmm… whatever. Let’s see, shall we? Vampires - they want me dead. Demons - want me dead. Family - will want me dead if they learn exactly what I am. Hunters - will kill me on sight. Other than you guys, everyone wants me dead.”

            “We’ll figure it out,” Mick said again, trying to be reassuring even though he wasn’t sure how well he was pulling it off.

            “Maybe,” Dean said again. “I’m tired. I’m going to get some blood and then sleep. Don’t wake me for anything.” He turned and entered the kitchen, where he swallowed down another package of blood, and then he promptly left the room to disappear into the study and the room beyond.

            Mick sighed as the wall slid over the bond, Dean closing it willingly. He wished he knew how to help his friend, but he had no idea what to do or how to stop everyone from wanting him dead.

            He looked at Castiel only to find that the angel had vanished.

            “Well… goodbye to you too,” Mick murmured as he sighed and sat heavily on the couch again.

            He was alone with his thoughts once more, and he had no idea what to do. He could only hope things would eventually work out and go back to normal, for everyone’s sake.

 


	14. Are You Afraid?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it was pointed out to me a while ago, when posting this on Fanfiction in 2010, that Dean doesn't cuss like this in the show. He doesn't say 'fuck'. I told them that he says everything he can get away with and his character would say 'fuck' if it wasn't on the CW. So it just seems like his character to me. If you are bothered by it, sorry.

Chapter Fourteen: Are You Afraid?

 

 

 

Alex crept downstairs, hoping to find Dean awake. He’d heard someone moving around down here, after all, and he was tired of staying in his room, in bed. He was tired of being afraid and Dean seemed to be able to calm him. The angels had told him Dean was good, that Dean was safe, and he knew it was true. “Dean?” he called out quietly, his voice soft and smile in the wide open space of the downstairs of the apartment. Dean appeared from the kitchen, frowning down at him.

            “Alex?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

            “No.” Alex shook his head and then bit down on his lower lip. “I can’t sleep.” That was partially true, except that it was more like he didn’t _want_ to sleep. Dreams brought nightmares and he was tired of having them. It was making him terrified of sleep. He dreamed of fire, demons, and angels these days. The angels weren’t so bad, really, except some of them seemed rather fierce and wild, which scared him a little.

            “Well, would you like something to drink? How about some warm milk?” Dean asked.

            Alex paused. “Cold milk, please.” He’d never really liked warm milk but he knew it was supposed to help people sleep. He didn’t wish to sleep at the moment. Sam, who he learned was Dean’s brother, kept entering his dreams and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like Sam, or the wild, harsh look he had in his dreams. He shuddered as he remembered it and then relaxed when he felt Dean’s hand clamp down on his shoulder comfortingly.

            “You all right, kid?” Dean asked, frowning down at him with concern in his green eyes.

            Alex nodded. “I’m fine, just… been having nightmares.”

            Dean nodded slowly. “That’s to be expected, after all you’ve learned and what the angels have told you, eh?”

            He shrugged. Was it normal? He didn’t know. He just knew he wanted the nightmares to stop and go away, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. “I don’t like it.”

            “No one does, kid,” Dean agreed with him as he picked him up and gave him his glass of milk. Alex yawned as Dean carried him toward the couch and sat him down gently.

            “Do you have nightmares, Dean?” Alex asked.

            Dean paused. “I used to, yeah. I don’t usually dream anymore, though… at least not that I remember.”

            “I wish that would happen to me,” Alex said with a heavy sigh, looking down at the ground as he took a sip of his milk and then placed his glass on the table in front of the couch.

            “Nah, it’s good to dream,” Dean told him, sitting down next to him.

            “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

            “That’s just ‘cause you’re a little freaked out right now, kid. You’re learning about all this new stuff, and hell yeah, it’s kinda scary. I was a little younger than you when I learned about it all, about demons and everything… and I turned out okay, didn’t I?”

            Alex nodded, watching him with tears glistening in his eyes as he thought back on his nightmares. How had Dean been able to live with it?

            “Then you’ll be just fine as well,” Dean said with a nod, touching his shoulder lightly again. “The nightmares will go away eventually, and remember - they go away when you wake up. When you’re scared, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

            Alex nodded again, actually feeling somewhat relieved, and swallowed down the rest of his milk, thankful Dean was there for him to talk to. At first, when the angels had told him about Dean, he had been more than a little skeptical. But then when Dean had shown up at the hospital, he’d immediately clung to him because the angels had assured him he was safe, and he’d needed someone to hug him at the time, so very badly. He still wanted someone to hug him, but Dean didn’t seem the hugging type, except in certain situations.

            But Dean surprised him by somehow sensing what he wanted, and strong arms came around him, wrapping him in a safe, protective cocoon of an embrace.

            Dean stood with him held safely in his arms, the milk completely gone from the glass as it sat forgotten on the table. “Let’s get you back up to bed, yeah? It’s late and Santa’s watching you - he knows when you’re sleeping and when you’re awake, after all.”

            Despite himself, Alex giggled. “But it’s not Christmas,” he told Dean.

            Dean grinned at him. “That doesn’t mean he’s not watching you. It’s almost creepy, isn’t it?” He climbed the stairs easily.

            Alex smiled and shook his head. “Santa’s not creepy.” He paused. He wasn’t sure if he still believed in Santa or not. He liked the idea of Santa, the magic behind it, but he wasn’t so sure he actually believed in the guy anymore. But what if he said he didn’t believe in him and he wound up not getting any more presents? So he decided to just keep his mouth shut on the subject for now.

            He buried his face into Dean’s chest and yawned. Silence filled his ears after Dean’s chuckle, which confused him. He pressed his face further into the chest and frowned as he pulled back, looking up at Dean’s face. “Why can’t I hear your heartbeat?”

            Dean froze and nearly tripped on the stairs. He made it to the top successfully and then stopped, frowning into thin air as he bit down on his lower lip. Alex stared at him momentarily, wanting an answer. When he’d snuggled into his mother or father’s chest, he’d always felt that reassuring thrum, the heart’s lullaby as his mother used to call it. But now he couldn’t hear it, and it was both intriguing and worrying. Weren’t people supposed to be dead when their heart stopped beating? But Dean wasn’t dead - he was right there in front of him, holding him, taking him to his room… Well, technically, he was now stopped at the top of the stairs, but still.

            “Dean?” Alex asked, trying to coax him into an answer. “Why?”

            He could remember his parents getting angry with him for always asking ‘why’, but he couldn’t help it. There was a lot of stuff that he didn’t know that he really wanted to know.

            And this was one of those things.

            Dean was still hesitating. “Does it bother you?” he asked slowly, eying Alex as he finally started walking again, moving toward Alex’s room, his muscles tense and his grip on Alex firm yet still gentle, though how that was possible, Alex didn’t know.

            Alex paused and thought about it. “I guess not,” he murmured, “but why? You have a heartbeat, don’t you?”

            Dean pushed open the door to Alex’s room. “No,” he answered quietly as he put Alex down on the bed. “I don’t.” His eyes moved toward the ground, flitting away from Alex’s face as he stared up at him in confusion.

            “Then how are you alive?” he asked curiously.

            Dean hesitated. “Do you believe in… monsters, Alex?”

            “Monsters?” Alex asked slowly, feeling his heart start to race. “Like what? Demons?”

            Dean shrugged. “Among other things, I guess… demons… vampires… stuff like that.”

            “I guess so…” Alex didn’t think he liked where this was going. Why would Dean bring up monsters?

            “Are you scared of vampires?”

            “I don’t know.” He honestly didn’t. His parents hadn’t let him watch any vampire movies, and all he knew was that they were bloodsuckers. The angels hadn’t mentioned vampires, though. He wasn’t sure if he feared them or not.

            “What do you know about vampires?”

            “Why are you asking about vampires?” Alex countered quietly, staring up at him.

            Dean hesitated again and paced the length of his bed a few times. Alex watched him silently, waiting for him to answer. “Because _I’m_ a vampire, Alex.”

            Alex blinked at him, stared, and then frowned. “What do you mean? No you’re not.” Dean wasn’t a bloodsucker. He wasn’t some monster like a vampire was, right? Besides, if he was, why would the angels tell Alex he was safe?

            “Yes, I am,” Dean told him slowly, moving to sit next to him on the bed. “I don’t have a heartbeat, Alex - how do you explain that? I’m undead.”

            “Undead?”

            “Yes, that’s what vampires are.”

            Alex had heard the word used before when someone was talking about vampires. Swallowing thickly, he shook his head and moved away a little, scooting backward on his bed as he stared at Dean. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid of him or not. “I don’t…” he started.

            “I’m not going to hurt you, Alex. Just think of it as an illness, okay? A genetic disease or something. I wouldn’t hurt you or anyone else.”

            Alex frowned, not knowing what to say. He wanted to believe Dean but the thought of being this close to a vampire was a little rattling. _But you know him,_ a part of his mind whispered. _He wouldn’t hurt you. The angels said he was safe and they wouldn’t lie._

            At least, he didn’t think they would. Why would they?

            “Do you suck blood?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

            “Not like what you’re thinking,” Dean told him quickly. “I get mine from a blood bank. I don’t hurt people, Alex. I don’t take it from them like that.”

            Well, that eased Alex’s mind a little, but…

            “You don’t have a heartbeat.” He kept coming back to that for some reason. It was just unnatural.

            “I know,” Dean sighed. “I know I don’t. But does that really bother you? Am I a different person now that you know, or am I still the same guy?”

            Alex paused because, honestly, Dean hadn’t changed. He was still looking at him with soft green eyes and his tone was still soothing. “No,” he answered finally. “You’re not different.”

            “Are you scared?”

            “…No,” he murmured, because he wasn’t, he realized. Maybe of other vampires, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t afraid of Dean. Dean was nice. Dean comforted him and helped him and had gotten him out of the hospital. The angels had pointed him toward Dean.

            He wasn’t scared of Dean.

            “Good.” Dean nodded slowly. “I know this is a lot to take in, Alex… but…”

            “Is Mick one too?” Alex asked quickly, frowning at him. It almost made sense, now that he thought about it. The quick speed Mick had been running that day, how quickly they’d gotten him… how easily both of them picked him up, when even his parents had had a little trouble at first.

            “Yes. Is that okay?” Dean asked.

            Alex nodded slightly. “I guess so… is he like you?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “He’s not going to…”

            “He’s not going to hurt you, no. He wouldn’t do that, Alex. Remember, just think of it like an illness, a genetic thing, okay? It’s not what you think. We’re not… bad.” A dark screen came over Dean’s face but was gone by the time Alex blinked. He thought maybe he had imagined it.

            Alex nodded, wanting to believe Dean. Plus he trusted that the angels knew what they were doing. Surely they knew Dean was a vampire, right? “Okay,” he sighed.

            Dean shook his head. “It’ll get easier.”

            Alex shrugged.

            “No one is going to hurt you,” Dean promised, “not while I’m around.”

            That made Alex smile.

 

 

 

Chris was very confused. His head was completely healed, and the targeted vampire had gotten away. He hadn’t bothered to finish Chris off, which went against everything Chris had thought previously. Why would this vampire be so targeted if he didn’t even kill his own kind? What would warrant his death? Chris didn’t know, but it was starting to put an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He just couldn’t figure it out. Why would someone save him? Who had that guy, Cas, been? What was he? Because he sure as hell wasn’t human. He’d vanished, for crying out loud! Vanished. And he’d healed Chris somehow, healed his _skull_ , and Chris didn’t necessarily know anything that could do that. Sure, vampires could heal over time, and quicker than humans, but not _instantaneously_.

            It was mind-boggling to Chris, who just continued to think about it as he walked around the city. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that someone had managed to heal him like that, or that Dean had been the one to give the order for the guy to help him in the first place. For a targeted vampire, the guy sure didn’t act like a threat. He seemed rather forgiving, because Chris had certainly been trying for a quick kill, but Dean had just told the guy to heal him and had left, hadn’t bothered to even try and finish him off or anything.

            He couldn’t understand it and it was beginning to drive him crazy.

            Maybe he would have to find this Charles Hubert guy and figure out what he knew about the enigma of Dean Winchester. Because Chris sure felt pretty damn clueless.

            There was more to Dean Winchester than met the eye.

 

 

Lilith was annoyed. Her plan wasn’t going as well as she would have thought, but she was still pleasantly amused. Dean Winchester had his little angels - she sneered at the word - with him. One in particular was guarding him like a faithful little dog, which was just absolutely sickening, to think an angel would spend so much time with a mere, filthy human. A sneer crossed her face and she sighed in the meat suit of the little girl she was wearing. It still was not yet time for her to take on an adult form, and she preferred the little kids - they were easiest to get into, after all, as they had practically no will because they didn’t know the true dangers of the world. If she allowed them to live through this possession, they would always be traumatized for life, which was always humorous to her.

            Demons gathered around her loyally, which made her smile. Her little vampire minions were failing traumatically, and if they didn’t start picking up the slack soon, she would have to get into one and do the job herself. Because if she wanted something done right, she was going to have to be the one to do it.

            She had to set a plan in motion, after all, and it would be easiest with Dean Winchester gone. Preferably in hell, but she wasn’t picky.

            Either way, he needed to die, and soon.

            She would make sure it happened, before the angels could fully get to him and convince him of his ‘destiny’.

            That was her main priority.

            Her secondary priority?

            Find Sam Winchester and convince him of his _own_ destiny.

 

 

 

Sam and John waited outside the apartment building, ready to go in as soon as they saw the lights turn off inside the desired apartment. It flickered off eventually, and they shared looks and nodded toward each other. Sam didn’t necessarily feel comfortable about breaking in somewhere, but he figured it was a necessity at the moment. They had to get Dean back, and if they meant forcibly taking him out of the apartment, then so be it. Sam wasn’t going to lose his brother, after thinking for so long he was dead, to some crazy inhuman guy who Dean thought was a friend.

            They took the elevator up and then prowled through the hall for the time being, waiting a moment to make sure the people inside were really asleep. Then they surged forward and Sam took to picking the lock. After a moment, he swung the door open and he and John entered the apartment, intent on getting Dean back.

            Sam had no idea where Dean was, exactly, but he knew the general area. John said he would keep watch while Sam disappeared into the study, the room Mick had been so intent on keeping him away from earlier. Quietly, he crept through the room, trying to figure out where Dean was, wondering how or why he would have been back here. Maybe it was just a coincidence that he was when Alex had run back here earlier. Maybe he’d fallen asleep in the study or something. A faint smile ghosted across Sam’s face, because that had been known to happen - Dean falling asleep over books.

            “Dean?” he whispered softly into the dark silence around him.

            A hand grabbed his arm suddenly and yanked him harshly toward the door of the room, leading him out of it with a snarl. Sam looked to see Mick glaring at him with cold, hard eyes that were narrowed into dangerous slits.

            “What the hell are you doing here?” Mick snapped angrily. “Breaking into my apartment? I should have you arrested!”

            “Where’s Dean?” Sam growled back.

            “Sleeping,” Mick said in response. “Like most people do at this hour of the night, but then you probably knew that, right?” He shook his head. “You and your father need to just get the hell out and keep out of our lives. After the way you upset your brother, how could you even show up like this?”

            “I didn’t mean to upset him,” Sam was quick to say.

            “Yeah, well, you did, and he was pretty damn pissed for a while.”

            “You’re not human.”

            Mick’s gaze slid over him. “Give the kid a cookie.”

            Sam glared and shoved at him as they entered the living room. John was on the ground, rubbing at his head. “Dad,” he said in worry, jerking free of Mick’s hold to move toward his father, glaring at the guy as he did so. “What the hell did you do?”

            “Merely knocked him down - you two are invading my home! You’re lucky I’m not calling the police.”

            “Why don’t you?” Sam sneered.

            “Because, like it or not, you two are Dean’s family and I’m not going to do that to him. He’s already upset enough with you two.” Mick shook his head. “Leave, now, before I do call the police. If you don’t leave willingly, I will gladly throw you out.” His eyes narrowed at Sam. “And you know I can.”

            Sam glared, knowing that Mick was referring to when he’d said he wasn’t human. “What are you?”

            “Does it really matter? I already know you want to kill me. Not like you’d ever _listen_ to your brother, right? I mean, why would you? Of all the stories he’s told me about the two of you, you two don’t seem to give a rat’s ass about him.”

            “That’s not true,” Sam said quickly, shaking his head, because that couldn’t have been further from the truth. He loved his brother. He _missed_ his brother… and he wanted him back, just the way he was four years ago.

            Mick’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as Sam helped John to his feet. “Oh yeah? Tell me, when did you start to actually give a crap about him? When he disappeared? When you were ignoring him at college?” His gaze shifted toward John. “How about you? Did you care before, or did you just decide to start caring when he vanished? Oh, don’t think he hasn’t told me about the two of you - how you both ditched him. Did you know that when I found him, he called his _car_ family? Said it was the only member of his family that had never _left_ him.”

            Guilt and pain shot through Sam violently, and he began quickly shaking his head, as though he wished to take Mick’s words away, but a dark part of him whispered that maybe they were true, that Mick was right. It hadn’t been like that, as Sam told himself. He hadn’t ditched Dean. But, maybe to Dean, it had seemed like it. Sam had been a damn crappy brother.

            “Don’t talk like you know anything about our family,” John snapped, glaring.

            “I don’t _want_ to know your family, if that’s how you treat your own son, your own _brother_.” His gaze narrowed at the two of them as he crossed his arms, folding them across his chest. He looked confident he could take them without having to even be prepared for a fight, and Sam sensed that maybe he was right. “I’d give anything to see my family again, just for a damn _second_ , but the two of you take everything for granted. What, did you think he was actually going to stick around if you kept treating him like that? Why would he? What possible reason would he have to stay when the both of you shoved him away?”

            “Mick,” came Dean’s voice as he appeared in the room, coming from the study, his voice sounding tired, “that’s enough.”

            Sam swallowed thickly as he looked at his brother. “Dean-” he started.

            “Quiet, Sam,” Dean said, but his voice wasn’t sharp or demanding. He just sounded tired, like he was wearing thin, defeated. “You two should leave - now. Contrary to popular belief, it’s still illegal to do a B&E.”

            “Dean, please, we just want to talk,” Sam said, taking a small step closer to his brother.

            It hurt him to see Dean step back. “Leave, Sam. If you want to talk, you could always call.”

            Sam released a slow breath. “Would you answer?”

            “Of course, Sammy.” Dean smiled faintly. “Why would I hide anymore?”

            “Why did you hide?” John asked, frowning.

            “Well, I think Mick has it pretty well covered, eh? There are other reasons, of course, but the bottom line was I just…” Dean shrugged and glared at the ground. “I just didn’t see why it mattered. You were… both off doing your own thing, and I was stuck alone. And, hell, you both _left_ me, wouldn’t answer the fucking phone, wouldn’t return my calls, so why _not_ vanish? Just like Dad.”

            Sam didn’t miss the way his father flinched. “Dean, it wasn’t like that-”

            “Then what was it like, Sam? Huh?” Dean shook his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past and it’s time to do some construction, build a bridge, and get over it.” His gaze slid toward Mick. “Did you call the police?”

            “No.” Mick shook his head slowly. A silent look passed between the two of them, something Sam couldn’t read, and then Dean turned away.

            “You two need to go. I’m tired and you shouldn’t be here.” He began to disappear into the study.

            Sam jerked in surprise when his father suddenly pulled out a gun and aimed it angrily at Mick, his eyes wide and wild, a look Sam hadn’t seen before. “You’re not taking my son from me,” he snarled viciously, and then pulled the trigger, the gun full of silver bullets. Sam could remember telling his father to be prepared, but he hadn’t thought something like _this_ would happen.

            Dean spun around with a shout as Mick jerked back upon impact and dropped to the ground.

 


	15. Stakes are High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will post more later :) I have up to chapter 25 completed.

Chapter Fifteen: Stakes are High

 

 

The bullet resonated through the apartment, loud and sharp, a deafening crack in Dean’s ears even though John had a silencer on. Nothing was too quiet for Dean these days, though, not with his vampire ears. He spun, feeling Mick’s pain through their connection as his sire dropped to the ground like a bag of bricks, heavy and with a dull thud. Eyes growing sharp and violent, he rounded on John, glaring as he strode toward him, quickly tearing the gun from his grasp. With his vampire strength, he threw the gun against the wall and watched in satisfaction as it shattered into pieces, no longer useful. Satisfied, Dean sent a glare and a snarl in his family’s direction and then quickly darted toward Mick, who was on the ground wincing. Blood blossomed on his chest and Dean detected the strong scent of silver, which made him wince in sympathy. Silver bullets wouldn’t kill a vampire, but it sure hurt like hell and made it a little harder to heal. Hell, it was what had made Mick feed on Dean the night he’d turned him.

            Dean’s eyes widened as he gripped Mick’s shoulder tightly. Mick’s eyes snapped open, feral and hungry, and it took all the strength Dean had to just shove Mick’s shoulders back to the ground as his sire tried to rise, his gaze flickering toward where Sam and John stood, his hunger quickly taking over. Dean could feel it through their bond. _No,_ he thought with a growl, and then shot a look toward Sam and John, who were both staring at him in shock.

            “Get out of here,” Dean snapped angrily. “You’ve fucking done enough! Get out! Now!” He was angry and wanted to keep them safe from Mick’s hunger.

            “Dean-” John stammered, “I didn’t mean-”

            “I don’t care what you fucking meant, you shot him! He’s my friend! Why can’t you understand that? Just because it’s supernatural doesn’t mean it’s bad!” Dean’s eyes flashed, causing Sam and John to flinch and step back. Truthfully, they had probably never seen him angry, let alone this angry with _them_. Well, Dean didn’t give a flying fuck - they’d shot Mick. His friend. His sire. “Get out - _now_!”

            Sam grabbed John’s arm and quickly, the two shuffled out. Dean let out a relieved breath and then grabbed Mick’s arm, quickly tugging him to his feet. “C’mon, you overgrown bag of bones. Can’t believe you let yourself get shot.” He shook his head, leading Mick toward the kitchen. “Pathetic, Micky. Getting rusty there, eh?” He grinned and Mick growled, his fangs showing sharply as they poked through from his gums. He looked like a vicious snake to Dean, and he sighed. “I know, I know, blood. Here you go.” He pried open the refrigerator, keeping a tight grip on Mick’s arm so he wouldn’t try to run upstairs after Alex. He pulled out a few packages of blood - their only remaining ones, which made him sigh because he wouldn’t get breakfast - and handed them quickly to Mick.

            His sire tore them over viciously, hungrily drinking them down as though he hadn’t eaten in days. Dean wondered, vaguely, if this was how his life had ended - with Mick tearing into him and drinking all of his blood, all he had to give. The thought made a shudder tear through him so he pushed it down and continued to grip Mick’s arm… just in case. A vampire’s hunger could never be taken lightly, after all.

            Once Mick had devoured all the bags of blood, his hunger seemed sated and he leaned against the wall, groaning, his hair damp as it hung into his face. “I’m really starting to hate your family,” he mumbled, wincing as he rubbed at his chest, where the bullet had gone in. Dean gestured for him to take off his shirt and Mick quickly did so.

            Dean winced. “Ouch.” John had picked the bullets that exploded once they entered the target. Shrapnel pierced Mick’s skin, creating new wounds. If Mick had been human, he’d have been dead. But John and Sam knew he wasn’t human, so what had they been hoping to accomplish by shooting him? Dean shook his head because he honestly didn’t want to know. “Want some help getting it out?”

            “No. I’ll do it.” Mick sighed and shook his head. “Just…go check on Alex or something.”

            Dean nodded and turned, running directly into a warm, solid body. Jerking back in surprise, his arms flinging at as though to defend him, he looked to see that it was just Castiel, looking stoic as always. “Don’t _do_ that!” Dean snapped. “Personal freakin’ space, man! I’m gonna buy you a damn bell.”

            “I do not require a bell,” the angel said with a frown of confusion.

            Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course not. What do you want? Why are you here?”

            “I felt there was a disturbance. What happened?”

            “Well, little late there, buddy.” Dean shook his head. “Nothing, just my dad is kinda trigger happy.”

            “Your father was here?” Castiel frowned again.

            “Mm, yeah.”

            “And Sam?”

            “Yeah, him too.”

            “That is not safe.”

            “Hey, I didn’t invite him,” Dean said, putting his hands up in defense. “And he’s not dangerous. He may be a little confused, but he’s not… demonic or anything like you guys are thinking. Okay?”

            “That is not true.”

            Dean narrowed his eyes. “I think I know my own brother better than that. He’s not related to any demon business unless he’s killing them. He’s a hunter, that’s all.”

            Castiel shook his head.

            Mick had left the room a moment ago, presumably to go dig the bullet and shards out of him. Those things were nasty when metal detectors were used and were pretty freakin’ hard to explain away, which was why they had to dig them out. And they had to literally dig - like actually cut into their own skin. It wasn’t pretty or fun, and it hurt. It was definitely something Dean would rather do without if he could help it.

            A knock at the large metal door made Dean nearly jump out of his skin. He looked back at Castiel to see that the angel had disappeared as quickly as he’d come. Scowling and grumbling about no good Houdini angels, Dean moved toward the door, frowning as he looked at the camera first. Then he opened the door. “Hey, Josef,” he greeted slowly, wondering if maybe Josef had heard about the vampire hit out on him or not and if he was here to take him out or something. He liked Josef - he was a good friend and everything, but he was also an old vampire. He might have to kill Dean if there was a hit out on him out of principle alone.

            “Dean,” Josef greeted with a smile. “You have no idea what I heard this evening. Is Mick around?” Josef pushed past him and walked in like he owned the place.

            “Yes, Josef, _do_ come in,” Dean drawled sarcastically as he rolled his eyes and shut the door. “Mick’s busy picking bullets out of his skin.”

            “What happened?” Josef asked, his gaze flickering briefly with worry.

            “Just someone with an itchy trigger finger,” Dean explained with an easy shrug. “What did you want?”

            “You have a hit out on you, Deano,” Josef told him.

            Dean sighed. “I’m aware,” he mumbled. “Are you… here to…?” he trailed off, not sure how to continue.

            “Kill you?” Josef asked, and Dean nodded. “Hell no. I just want to know what’s going on and who the hell you pissed off so damn much that there’s an actual _hit_ out on you. Hell, there hasn’t been one of those in nearly a century!”

            Dean sighed. “Just my luck, I guess.” He wasn’t sure he was ready to tell Josef everything just yet, about how angels were involved, and demons. He doubted Josef would even believe him anyway. “I don’t know why there’s a hit out on me, but a lot of people want me dead.”

            “I’ve noticed,” Josef said. “I’ve gotten quite a few calls from vampires wanting to know if I’ve seen you around recently. I told them no, of course, but still. They’re looking, and it’s only going to be a matter of time before they think to check Mick’s place.”

            Dean swallowed. “I know…”

            He would have to leave soon. Castiel was right.

            Of course, that was if John and Sam didn’t find out he was part of the undead and kill him first.

            “Any ideas why this is happening?” Josef asked, sitting comfortably on the couch.

            Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “Not really.” That part was true, anyway. He wasn’t necessarily sure why the angels seemed to want to keep him alive while the demons and vampires wanted to kill him. And what did the Apocalypse have to do with any of this? He just didn’t understand and Castiel wasn’t too forthcoming with answers.

            “Well, I guess we’ll figure it out later, then,” Josef said. “Keep low for a while, kid.”

            Dean scowled. Josef liked to call him ‘kid’ because he had only been a vampire for four-years. It also didn’t help that he looked younger than Josef. Sighing, he rolled his eyes. “Whatever, old man.”

            The sound of approaching footsteps let Dean know that Mick had joined them in the room, looking a little pale. That was probably because he needed more blood after having dug into himself to retrieve the bullet and shards, but there wasn’t anymore blood. “Josef,” Mick said, nodding his head in greeting.

            “Mick,” Josef said, doing the same. “I hear you’ve had a rough night.”

            Mick snorted. “You could say that again. Are we out of blood?” This he directed at Dean.

            Dean nodded. “Yeah.”

            “I can go get you some,” Josef offered.

            “Thanks,” Mick said, smiling in appreciation.

            “Any idea why Dean has a hit out on him?” Josef asked.

            Dean and Mick shared a look. Through their bond, Dean let Mick know that he didn’t want Josef to know about the demons and angels just yet, and Mick nodded slowly.

            “No bond talking,” Josef said with a scowl. “I can’t listen in, even with my sneaky vampire abilities.”

            Dean rolled his eyes while Mick just smirked. “We don’t really know,” Mick said. “We just know people have been trying to kill him the past few days.”

            “And you never thought to give me a little heads up?”

            Dean shrugged. “We figured an informed vampire such as yourself would learn it soon enough.”

            “Well, you’re not wrong,” Josef said with a sigh. “I’ll see what I can do to find out what’s going on, but in the meantime, I think it’s best if the two of you just stay here for a while and lay low. I’ll go get you some blood and call Logan, maybe have him come over later and see if you need anything.”

            Mick nodded. “Thanks, Josef,” he said sincerely.

            “Thanks, old man,” Dean said.

            Josef nodded and stood. “I’ll go get that blood. Be back soon - no more guns. Play nice, you two.”

            Then he left and Dean and Mick were alone in the living room.

            “How are you feeling?” Dean asked, glancing at his sire.

            “Better,” Mick said. “I still think I hate your family.”

            Dean shrugged. “I guess you’d have to get to know them first…they’re not all bad.”

            He loved his family.

            But even he had to admit they were acting like total jerks and he wanted to rip them a new one for breaking in and shooting Mick. Mick was his closest friend, his sire, and his family couldn’t treat him like that, no matter what.

            “I’m not so sure I want to get to know them,” Mick told him.

            Dean shrugged. “Look at the bright side, then.” He grinned. “If I die in the next few days, you won’t ever have to see them again.”

            He could feel Mick’s discomfort at his words through their bond even as they flew from his mouth.

 

 

The next morning, Sam and John still weren’t talking to each other. Sam was furious because John had shot Mick, and that certainly wasn’t going to bridge anything between them and Dean. He was fearful John had just severed more ties, had given Dean more of a reason to stay away. Sam just wanted his old brother back but that was seemingly becoming more and more impossible.

            Then there was also the matter of Dean. His eyes had flashed so angrily, and Sam had never really been subject to Dean’s real anger, and never to that extent. Had he really taken his brother for granted so much? Was Mick right? Was that why Dean hadn’t contacted them, hadn’t picked up the phone or anything? Guilt was like a sharp knife to Sam’s gut but he couldn’t do anything about it, because all he and John seemed to be doing was making things all the worse.

            Dean had thrown that gun against the wall pretty harshly. It had shattered, and though Sam had always thought his big brother somewhat invincible, he didn’t remember him ever being that strong. Something in Sam’s gut told him that maybe, just maybe, Dean wasn’t completely human either, but the rest of Sam’s mind shoved that thought down because Dean was human - he was Sam’s _brother_ , not some supernatural creature.

            Supernatural creatures were bad and evil and had to be killed, and Dean was nothing like that. Right?

            Sam swallowed and looked up as John entered the room with breakfast. As Sam tore open his bag of food, he frowned at his father. “Why did you shoot him?” he finally whispered, wanting to know.

            “I don’t know.”

            “I think you made things worse…”

            “I know,” John snapped, glaring at him. “I just… I don’t know…” His shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. “I just feel like we’re losing him and it’s all Mick’s fault…”

            “We’re to blame too.”

            “I know.” John’s voice was quiet. “I know, and I want to make things right, I do, but with Mick there… I’m not sure we can.”

            “He’s Dean’s friend…”

            “He’s not human.”

            End of discussion.

 

 

There was a knock at the door… again. It roused Dean from his sleep, and he debated about answering it, ignoring it, or leaving it for Mick to get up and answer because damn it, he was tired, but then he shook the thought away because Mick was clearly asleep upstairs. Sighing, he was just about to push the top of his freezer open when he heard footsteps approaching his room. Had Mick gotten the door? Because he couldn’t hear the knocking anymore. Yawning, he pushed the top of his freezer open, wrapping his robe around him as he sat up.

            The door to his room opened and he expected to see Mick, not the angry, snarling face that wound up presenting itself, sharp vampire fangs seemingly ready to slice through his flesh. In his sleep-hazed mind, his brain wasn’t working quick enough to allow him to dodge the stake that came at his chest full speed, ramming through the flesh and crashing through bone, which left him gasping as blood pooled in his mouth. His vision clouded as he fell back with a last puff of air, feeling his body beginning to shut down.

            The vampire was about to finish him off when he turned suddenly and ran from the room. He heard the sound of the main door sliding open and figured the vampire had left.

            Which just left him alone in his room, bleeding and paralyzed, his eyes open and staring at the ceiling from the open freezer.

            _Mick!_ he shouted through the bond. _Mick!_

 

 

            Mick’s eyes snapped open for reasons he didn’t fully know or understand. Frowning to himself, he threw open the door to his freezer and stepped out of his room, moving swiftly down the hall. Once downstairs, he stopped at the sight of Sam standing in the living room, looking confused. Anger caused him to growl as Sam looked at him. “What are you doing back here? Haven’t you done enough?” he snapped.

            Sam blinked at him. “You… You’re all healed?”

            “Yeah. I’m not _human_ , remember?” Mick shook his head. “What are you doing in here?”

            “I… I just came to… talk to Dean but… the door was open. Is something wrong?”

            There was a feeling stabbing at Mick, a feeling of pain and urgency, and he just shook his head. “You need to leave.” He hurried through the study, not caring if Sam saw where he was going or even if he followed at the moment. Dean seemed to be calling for him through the bond, and he wasn’t going to just ignore it. It wasn’t like Dean just called for him all the time, after all - only very rarely and if things were serious.

            He threw open the door to Dean’s room and stopped in his tracks at the sight of the stake protruding from his friend’s chest.

            “Oh no,” he breathed, and then quickly darted into the room. He was about to wrap his hand around the stake to pull it out, since he knew that stakes only paralyzed vampires but didn’t kill them, but was stopped at the sound of Sam’s voice.

            “Get away from him! Dean!” Sam slammed into him, shoving him back and away as he stood over his brother, staring down at him with wide, pained hazel eyes. His hands went down to rest on Dean’s shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Dean? Dean!” Mick watched as tears welled in Dean’s little brother’s eyes, and then stepped forward. Sam angrily shoved him away. “You did this!” he snarled. “You did this to him!”

            “What?” Mick blinked. “I did not!”

            “I saw you!”

            He must have been referring to when Mick had been reaching for the stake to take it out. He shook his head. “No, I didn’t do it. I can help him, so would you please move?”

            “No! You’re not going anywhere near him! You’re not going to hurt him again!” Sam said, and then turned back toward Dean, running fingers lightly, shakily, across his face. Mick frowned at the compassion and regret written on Sam’s face.

            “Sam, I have to-” he tried again.

            “No! Stay away! Just go away! You’ve done enough already! You killed him!”

            “I did not! He’s not dead!” At least, not in the literal sense. Undead maybe, but not dead. Growling, he shoved Sam aside and wrapped his hand around the stake, shifting it slightly as he started to pull it out. Sam slammed into him again, knocking him away. “Sam!”

            “Get away!” Tears raced down Sam’s cheeks, shocking Mick because here he’d thought Sam and John were pretty damn cold-hearted. “You k-killed him…”

            Mick sighed, taking a deep breath. “I. Did. Not. Kill. Him.” Then he flinched because, technically, he did. He turned Dean into a vampire. But this time, with the stake, it wasn’t Mick’s doing. He didn’t do it and Dean wasn’t literally dead. Only undead. And his irritation was seeping through the bond. Dean really wanted him to just get the stake _out_ but Sam was proving an obstacle. If he pulled it out while he was there, he would know Dean certainly wasn’t human. Mick didn’t know what would happen then. But then again, he couldn’t just leave the stake in there. The longer it was there, the more damage there would be and the harder it would be for Dean to heal, and the more blood he would need.

            Except, they didn’t have any blood. Josef still hadn’t brought any by, had called to say he would stop by in the morning, and that was still hours away. He couldn’t just leave Dean like this until then. He would have to pull the stake out and hopefully help him fight off the hunger, but he knew it was going to be a nearly impossible task.

            Especially with Sam standing right there, so close…

            Angrily, Mick grabbed Sam and tossed him out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Dean’s door locked, but the lock was rusty and didn’t work all the time, but Mick locked it anyway. Sam pounded against the door, growling at him. He promptly ignore him and moved toward Dean again, wrapping his hands around the stake.

            He pulled it out just as Sam kicked the freaking door in. Sam stood staring as Dean sucked in a ragged breath, immediately sitting up, his eyes wide and dark with hunger.

            “Oh my God,” Sam murmured, staring in disbelief. “D-Dean?”

            Dean turned hungry eyes on Sam, and the red screen covered his green gaze. Mick felt the hunger taking over his friend, felt it as Dean shifted as though to dive at Sam, who was entering the room slowly, still staring at Dean and certainly not helping things.

            “Dean,” Mick hissed, shoving at his shoulders to keep him still. He dropped the stake onto the ground and listened as Dean growled, his hunger-hazed gazes locked on Sam.

            “What’s going on? What did you do?” Sam was asking unhelpfully. “Oh my God, you made him supernatural too, didn’t you?”

            “So what if I did?” Mick snapped, glaring. “Could you get out of here? He’s fucking hungry and you’re not helping things.”

            “Hungry?”

            “Yes! Get out!” Dean shifted again and Mick put his strength into it to try and hold him back, but it was beginning to become a struggle. Luckily Dean wasn’t at full strength at the moment. “Now, Sam!”

            “What is he? What are you?”

            “Starts with a fucking V, now get out!”

            “Vampire?” Sam frowned. “You’re vampires…you turned my brother into part of the undead?”

            “Yes! On accident but yes! Now _get out_! He’s hungry!”

            Dean lunged for Sam but Mick knocked him to the ground, knowing that no matter how annoyed with Sam he was, having Dean drain his little brother wouldn’t do anyone any good. Sam flinched and stepped back, staring with his stupid wide eyes.

            “He wouldn’t… hurt me,” Sam said slowly, as though trying to convince himself of that as well.

            “You don’t understand - damn it, he’s hungry! Get out! Now! For his own good, get out!” Mick took a chance and angrily shoved Sam from the room, barely able to turn in time to catch Dean as he lunged after his brother. He heard Sam scramble away. He listened as the door opened and closed, signaling that Sam was gone, which got rid of that problem.

            However, Alex was still in the house and Dean was fucking hungry.

 


	16. My Brother, the Vampire

Chapter Sixteen: My Brother, the Vampire

 

 

Mick wrestled Dean back into the freezer and successfully managed to shut it on him. Sitting on the top wasn’t really helping to keep it closed, but it was the best option he had at the moment. Dean’s hunger would grow, though, and as it did, Mick knew he would become stronger. It was hard to believe, sometimes, what this burning hunger could do to a person, what it could allow _them_ to do. Mick could still hardly believe his own hunger had managed to let him tear into Dean as though he were nothing simply because he was a warm, close supply of blood. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he focused in on the sound of Dean growling at him from inside the freezer.

            Alex, hopefully, was still sound asleep upstairs. Then, if Dean did manage to get free, Mick would have a chance of stopping him before he managed to make it to the kid. Who could have done this? He did smell an unfamiliar vampire scent, but it was growing cold and barely lingering after Sam had trampled all over the place with his strong, human scent. Humans’ scent was more pronounced and it stuck out more.

            Dean clawed angrily at the top of the freezer, clearly unhappy, but Mick couldn’t chance moving for a single second. He knew how fast vampire speed could be, after all. He also knew, unfortunately, how fast life could be lost when one gave into their vampire urges. And poor Alex didn’t deserve any of that. Mick was going to make sure the kid remained safe. Really, though, he needed to get to a phone… Because Josef wasn’t due back for a while yet, and Dean wouldn’t be able to hold off for that long. Or, rather, he would, probably, but it wouldn’t be fun for anyone. His growls would eventually wake Alex and the kid would come down to investigate and see what was wrong. Also, he knew from experience how horrible it was to be so hungry due to some kind of injury. Vampires, while able to heal quickly, couldn’t necessarily handle blood loss very well. They quite human in that they _needed_ their blood. On a daily basis.

            But to get to the phone to call Josef would mean to leave Dean unguarded for the time it took for Mick to run to the kitchen and grab the phone off the counter. That was too much time. Dean would be able to make it up the stairs by then and he’d have quite a head start. Mick couldn’t chance it, not with Alex sleeping soundly upstairs.

            Dean gave a harsh shove that sent Mick flying off the top of it, as he hadn’t been expecting Dean to hit the top that hardly. Dean jumped out of the freezer like a tiger lunging for its prey, his eyes red and dark and ready to lead him to food. Mick lunged at him and tackled his legs as Dean tried to leave the room, causing them both to go flying into the door. Ow. Wood hurt but only so much, and Mick had a main priority at the moment.

            Keep Dean away from humans. Keep him from eating someone.

            Like he had done years ago… He still felt so guilty about it. Sure, things had seemingly turned out okay and Dean was a great friend and partner in his this private investigator business he had, but he’d killed him. He’d drained him and had accidentally turned him. He could have easily just left him for dead if no blood had gotten into his system, and a great person would have been dead then and there.

            “Dean,” he growled, trying to keep the writhing form pinned to the ground, but it was definitely proving to be quite the task. “Stop it. Dean! You can’t attack Alex. _Alex_. The kid. The kid who knows about us. The kid who you got out of the _hospital_. Dean!”

            Dean growled and kicked him off of him, quickly darting to his feet and out of the room. Mick cursed and jumped up as well, immediately giving chase. He caught Dean near the stairs and the two hit the ground rolling. Dean came up again in the kitchen, near the middle counter that stood in the middle of the room, not against a wall, and Mick came up on the other side of it, between Dean and the stairs.

            “I don’t want to hurt you,” Mick said honestly. “Calm down. Don’t make me do anything.”

            He did have vampire fighting equipment, after all. It always came in handy. He didn’t want to have to use it on his friend, his sired, but he would if he had to. Not only would it keep Alex safe, but Dean as well. He knew that if Dean were to hurt Alex in this rush of hunger, it would eat away at him for the rest of his life and weigh him down. He certainly knew the feeling himself. He wouldn’t let his friend live with that kind of guilt as well. No way.

            Dean was incapable of speech, it seemed. Mick could remember getting that way when the hunger was so great. All one could do was make feral sounds, growl, and lash out at unsuspecting victims who happened to be walking to their Impala in the late hours of the night…

            Mick shook those memories away. Right now was what was important, after all, not the past. “Dean, please,” he said beseechingly even though a part of him whispered that there was simply no getting through the hunger, “you have to stop. Okay? This is _Alex_. Alex! You can’t hurt him. Control yourself, okay? Calm down. Just a little longer and Josef will bring what you need.”

            Dean’s eyes darkened and he pulled his lips back in a fierce snarl, his fangs showing clearly. He leapt over the counter and tackled Mick to the ground before he used his roll to come up running, his movements quick as he darted toward the stairs again. This vampire was going to wear him out! Mick jumped up and hurried after him, barely managing to tackle him on the stairs, halfway up them. The two of them crashed into the hard wood and then promptly began to slide down the steps, still fighting. Dean was clawing at him, desperate to quench his burning hunger. Mick could feel it through their bond, even though mainly the hunger was shadowing over everything else.

            “Stop it,” Mick snarled, throwing a punch to Dean’s face even though he was sure it wouldn’t hurt him. Mick could throw a pretty damn hard punch, but the hunger was fogging Dean’s senses and so he probably didn’t even feel it anyway.

            God, but he hoped Josef got there soon. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up - and here he’d thought he was in shape!

 

 

Sam paced fervently outside of Mick’s apartment building. He was sure there would soon be trench marks in the side walk, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to really care about that at all. His mind was fogged with thoughts of what he’d just seen in Mick’s apartment and what he’d learned in those few short moments.

            Mick and Dean were vampires. Mick had turned Dean and now Sam’s brother was part of the undead. He’d been _staked_ , which he knew probably wouldn’t kill a vampire but would definitely cause some blood loss and be pretty damn painful. Dean was a vampire. Dean was a vampire.

            Dean, Sam’s _brother_ , was a vampire. A _vampire_! Part of the undead! Sam couldn’t believe it. No wonder Dean had gotten so defensive when he and John had mentioned that Mick was a supernatural creature! It made sense now, at least. At first, he’d thought it was just all of Dean’s anger against him and John, but now that argument held new meaning. Dean was angry with them, yeah, that seemed right. But it was also because of what they’d said about supernatural creatures. At least, Sam thought so.

            Did he care that Dean was a vampire?

            Well, yeah. He did. He didn’t like that Dean was undead, that he was a vampire, one of the things they were supposed to _hunt_. But he didn’t hate it, either. At least Dean was still around, right? That stake hadn’t killed him like Sam had originally thought. The residual feelings from when he’d gone into Dean’s little room and had see him like that echoed through him, causing him to shudder in the cool air.

            What had Mick said? Dean needed to feed. He was hungry. The blood loss must have caused it, Sam guessed. That meant Dean really needed to feed, which mean he needed blood. He needed to _drink_ blood. Did Mick have any blood at the apartment? Surely they wouldn’t use Alex, right?

            Sam shut that thought down quick, because no matter how much Dean had changed over the past few years, he was still Sam’s big brother and there was no way he would ever get Alex involved.

            However, he was hungry… Sam had seen that feral look in his eyes.

            What if he did do something crazy like attack Alex? Sam chewed on his lower lip momentarily, wondering what he should do. The hunter in him wanted to hurry away from here and back to John so they could get what they needed to take down a few vampires. Vampires were supernatural creatures, bloodsuckers, part of the undead… they were supernatural and therefore they were evil, right?

            But the brother in him wanted to help Dean, no matter what - wanted to make up for the wrong things he’d done in his life to his brother, how he’d treated him before, when they’d been younger, and how he’d ignored him at college. He had a lot to make up for. And if Dean was a vampire… did that mean he was evil? He certainly didn’t seem like it. He and Mick had taken that kid in, right? As far as Sam knew, they hadn’t been mistreating him or anything, and he knew how much of a soft spot Dean had for kids. Mick himself was a private investigator, so he was doing good too, right? They weren’t evil…

            But they were supernatural.

            The brother within him and the hunter argued it out while he continued to pace, unsure as to what to do. Sure, he was a hunter and he killed supernatural creatures, including vampires… but his own brother? He wasn’t so sure he could do that, even if Dean did prove to do something horrible, like maybe attacking Alex… he wasn’t so sure he could kill his brother. In fact, he was pretty damn sure he couldn’t. The thought made him somewhat shaky, especially after how long he and his father had searched for Dean. He certainly couldn’t kill him now, just because he was a vampire. Dean himself was a hunter, and so Sam knew he hadn’t _asked_ to be turned. It had just happened… maybe Mick was to blame.

            But Mick wasn’t important right now. What mattered was that Dean was a vampire and Sam didn’t know what to do.

            He combed his fingers through his hair and released a slow breath. Dean was hungry… according to Mick. But surely they had blood there somewhere, right? Because Sam certainly couldn’t picture them using Alex as a source of blood - that didn’t seem right at all.

            What was he going to do?

 

 

Mick was tiring himself out. He hoped Dean was tiring too, what with the way the younger vampire was beginning to sway from both blood loss and the constant running around and tackling the two of them seemed to be doing. Panting, Mick kept his eyes narrowed on Dean. He’d managed to run him back into the study, but it was proving to be quite the challenge to keep him there. Thankfully, Alex was still asleep upstairs. Mick wasn’t sure what would happen if he came down at the moment, because then Dean would _really_ try to get to him, and if Mick thought it was tough _now_ … well, it would be way worse then. How much time had passed? He knew it was still going to be a while before Josef or someone came with blood.

            Dean snarled but he was weakening, Mick knew. He could feel it through their bond, could see it in the way the younger vampire leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. The hunger and blood loss was taking its toll, which meant maybe this would be over soon. Hopefully, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this without hurting his friend. He had yet to get the weapons he used for vampires, not wanting to bring harm to his sired, but he would if he had to. He wouldn’t let Dean get to Alex.

            He couldn’t.

            Dean tried to shoot past him again but Mick quickly slammed him into the wall, growling low in his throat, his eyes flashing. “Stop it,” he hissed. “Dean, you have to control yourself. You’re trying to get to _Alex_!”

            But if Dean knew what he was saying, he certainly wasn’t showing it. He just hissed and tried to throw Mick off of him. Luckily for Mick, the younger vampire had weakened greatly and thus was unable to do so. Good, he was finally wearing down. About time! Mick had begun to wonder if Dean would ever tire out.

            “Stay down,” Mick growled. He wished Josef would just decide to come early, but that wasn’t necessarily Josef’s style. Josef hated getting up in the early morning. Mick didn’t know what to do. Maybe if Dean tired out enough, he could make a lunge for the phone, but he wasn’t making any bets on that or anything.

            Someone knocked on the door. Mick frowned. Was it Josef? He sniffed at the air and felt his heart sink as Dean desperately tried to lunge past him and toward the door as it opened to reveal Sam, looking shaken and unsure but definitely there and determined, if that made any sense. Mick growled.

            “What are you _doing_?” he hissed, shoving Dean back into the wall, trying to keep him there. “Get out!”

            Sam swallowed, staring at the two of them as though hesitant. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

            “No?” Mick repeated incredulously as Dean snarled. “He’s hungry! What do you not understand about that?”

            “He’s my brother,” Sam said slowly, stepping forward cautiously, which definitely was _not_ a good idea. Dean struggled against him. “I want to help him.”

            “You can’t,” Mick growled, “now get out!”

            “Don’t you… have any blood for him?” Sam asked, his voice quiet.

            “No,” Mick said, narrowing his eyes. “I drank the last of it when your dad _shot_ me.”

            Sam flinched. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We… jumped to conclusions, and-”

            Dean broke free and lunged at Sam. Mick tackled him a second before he could reach him, and Sam stepped back in surprise.

            “Now is not the time for that,” Mick snapped, narrowing his eyes. “Get out! Do you see how hungry he is? He doesn’t know what he’s doing!” Dean would attack Sam if given the chance. Couldn’t Sam see that?

            “I want to help,” Sam said again, his face set in determination.

            “You _can’t_ ,” Mick said, wondering why Sam couldn’t get that through his head.

            “How much blood does he need?”

            Mick blinked at him. “You can’t be serious,” he spluttered, staring at the younger Winchester. Was he really offering to…? That was crazy! Wasn’t he a hunter? Dean had thought they would kill him if they found out, and now Sam was trying to offer this?

            “I am,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes. “He’s my brother. I know I’ve been a bad brother in the past but that’s going to change. He can…feed off of me, for now…I guess. Just…how much does he need?”

            Mick shook his head. “I don’t know.”

            “Can he feed off me?”

            “…Yeah…” Josef and them had freshies, after all, which were women who liked to volunteer to be fed upon. Feeding off people was easy. They didn’t kill them or affect their daily lives, just had a little snack here and there. “But he’s _really_ hungry and-”

            “He’s my _brother_ ,” Sam said as though Mick just wasn’t getting it. “He can… feed on me.” Sam seemed a little shaken at the thought but determined nevertheless, and honestly, Mick was having a hard time holding Dean back. Sam was old enough and in shape enough that a little blood loss wouldn’t hurt, right? He would be there to make sure Dean didn’t take too much, and once the initial haze of hunger disappeared, Dean would be able to take control of himself again and would be able to hang on until Josef arrived with more blood.

            Honestly, it seemed like the best option. Except Mick didn’t necessarily trust Sam, and he also knew that Dean would feel guilty for feeding off of his brother. But which was worse? Dean taking a little blood from a willing brother, or Dean taking the blood forcefully from a little kid? The kid hands down. This was the best option, maybe their _only_ option, because even though Dean was tiring out and weakening, he could still get a freak rush of adrenaline at any given moment due to the hunger. Adrenaline did strange things to people. It had even allowed Mick to tear into someone’s throat so savagely and turn them into part of the undead without a second thought.

            So he finally gave into a faint, small nod and gestured for Sam to come closer. Sam did so, looking nervous, and Mick reached out for his arm, guiding it closer to Dean’s face as he kept the younger vampire pinned firmly to the wall.

            Dean’s eyes focused hazily on the offered arm and source of blood, and his fangs quickly snapped closed around Sam’s wrist, causing the younger Winchester to gasp and flinch simultaneously, but Mick had to admit that he was a doing a nice job of keeping still so the wound wouldn’t shift or become jagged. Sam bit down on his lower lip as he focused his eyes on his brother, looking determined and a little guilty at the same time. Mick kept a close eye on the younger vampire, keeping him held against the wall so he wouldn’t go after Sam if the younger brother decided to pull away.

            Sam did a great job of staying put, though, and Mick could feel the hunger disappearing from the bond, allowing the haze to disperse. Dean’s eyes cleared and after a moment, he pulled his fangs out of Sam’s skin, looking sick to his stomach as he looked at his little brother’s face.

            “Sammy,” he whispered shakily, staring with wide, guilty eyes. Mick released him, allowing him to step away from the wall, satisfied that the initial adrenaline given to him by the hunger was gone now and that it would be safe for the time being. No one was in any danger of being drained at the moment.

            “Dean,” Sam said in return, his voice just as shaky and soft as he clasped a hand down tightly on his wrist, trying to stop the slight blood flow. The puncture marks were clean and Sam had kept still, so the wounds weren’t bad. Dean guiltily disappeared into his room and returned with a towel, wrapping it gently around Sam’s arm with the caring experience of a brother.

            “I’m… I’m sorry, Sammy,” Dean whispered, glaring heavily at the ground, blood smeared on his lips. He brought a hand up and wiped the blood away, releasing a shaky breath even though technically, he didn’t even have to breathe. No vampire did, but it made them feel more human. Plus, people tended to notice if the person they were talking to or walking with wasn’t breathing. That kind of thing tended to freak people out.

            “It’s okay, Dean,” Sam said reassuringly, and Mick mentally praised him for it. He was starting to have a slightly different opinion of the younger brother now. It had taken a lot of courage to be able to come back after finding out what Dean was. It had taken courage to allow Dean to feed off of him when he was so hungry, especially when one was a hunter and was usually forced to kill vampires instead of help them.

            He realized, then, that Dean had never really said that _Sam_ would be the one to come after him to kill him for being a vampire. He’d always just said _John_ would, not Sam. He’d said Sam was at college. He’d never really entered the equation of finding out he was vampire and killing him.

            “It’s not,” Dean protested.

            “It is,” Sam said. “It’s okay, honest.” He stepped forward and Mick stepped back. He decided to leave the room and give the brothers a moment alone… he wouldn’t go far, just in case, but he’d give them a moment to talk.

            So he left the room and went upstairs to check that Alex was still sleeping soundly.

 

 

Sam stepped forward, wanting to reassure his brother that it really was okay. He’d paced around outside for a while, trying to decide what to do, when he’d realized that Dean was still his brother, no matter what. It didn’t matter that he was a vampire. He could have been a werewolf, hell, even a _demon_ for all he cared, but he’d still be Sam’s big brother, the guy who had raised him. It wouldn’t have taken away the essence that made him _Dean_. The label might have changed, but not the blood. They were family and nothing could or would ever change that.

            “Dean, it’s really okay.”

            Dean shook his head, stepping back and away from Sam. “No… I lost control. I could have _hurt_ you and-”

            “But you didn’t,” Sam said insistently. “I knew you wouldn’t, Dean. You wouldn’t hurt me.” Of this, he was sure. Because yeah, maybe things had gotten rocky between the two of them and he certainly could have been a better brother to Dean throughout the years, but he knew, in his heart, that his brother wouldn’t do anything to hurt him like that. Even when he’d sank his fangs into his skin like he had, the cuts had been sharp, simple, and clean, no fractured movement involved, and so on some level, Dean must have known what he was doing. There had been little pain.

            Dean wouldn’t hurt him. He was his brother.

            And brothers stuck together no matter what, right?

            “How can you have so much faith?” Dean asked, glaring down at the ground miserably.

            “I’ve always had faith in you,” Sam said. “Maybe not in much else… but in you. Always, Dean. You’re my _brother_.”

            He just wished he could make Dean _see_ that his words were true, but he had no idea how to do that. He hoped he could make up for his past mistakes, that it wasn’t too late to mend the bridge that had broken between them these past few days.

            “Sammy…”

            “I don’t care that you’re a vampire, Dean,” Sam felt the need to point out, watching as Dean slowly lifted his fractured gaze to look at him correctly. “I mean… I was certainly surprised when I found out, but… I don’t care. You’re still my brother and that’s all that matters. I’m _sorry_ for judging Mick as I did, and for unintentionally judging you as well. You were right - just because it’s supernatural, doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

            A flicker of something like hope appeared briefly in Dean’s eyes. “Really? You mean that?” he asked tentatively, as though afraid to believe what he was hearing.

            Sam nodded earnestly, smiling at his brother. “Yeah, I do. I really do. It’s okay, man. We’re still brothers, right?”

            “Right.”

            Sam nodded again. “And that’s all that matters.”

 


	17. New Vampires in Town

Chapter Seventeen: New Vampires in Town

 

 

Mick entered the living room again when he thought things had settled down. Thankfully, Alex was still sleeping soundly upstairs, which was kind of shocking due to the fact that Dean had been snarling so savagely, so hungrily not that long ago. When he entered the room and made his presence known by its occupants, Dean and Sam were both seated on the couch. Dean appeared lighter in mood, and the mirth of his mood shone brightly through the bond, allowing Mick to smile as well.

            “How are you two, now?” Mick asked cautiously just to be safe. Dean smiled faintly, which he took as a good sign, and Sam just nodded at him in brief acknowledgement.

            “We’re good,” Sam said before glancing at Dean as though to see if he agreed with him. Mick figured it was a little brother instinct or something, to check for reassurance from the elder brother. He envied that somewhat, as he’d never had an elder brother or anything like that, no one to really turn to in times of need.

            Well, that wasn’t necessarily right. He was able to talk to Josef about basically anything, which he figured was good. Josef was a great friend, after all, and had many years of experience as a four-hundred-year-old vampire.

            Mick nodded and then looked at Dean. “Josef should be here soon,” he said in warning, and watched as Dean nodded slowly, clearly understanding what he meant.

            Sam, on the other hand, looked puzzled. “What does that have to do with anything?”

            “He’s bringing blood,” Mick reminded him. “And he’s a vampire, so he doesn’t much like the thought of humans knowing of our existence.”

            Sam frowned. “Dean’s my brother.”

            Mick shrugged. “He still doesn’t like it. And there was a reason Dean broke of contact in the first place.” He hadn’t meant to really insinuate anything, but it was a fact to take into consideration on how Josef would react to seeing that Sam knew about them. It was best to just let it go for now. “You should go, before he gets here.”

            “But… Alex knows,” Sam said, frowning. “Doesn’t he?”

            Dean hesitated. “Yeah…” he admitted slowly, biting down on his lower lip. He still looked pretty tired and pale, but then again, didn’t most vampires? Even so, Mick figured he should be resting. Blood loss was hard on vampires, even more so than on normal humans, really, because at least humans could create their own blood. Vampires, on the other hand, had to take it when they needed it, which sucked, no pun intended.

            “Does Josef know about Alex?” Sam asked slowly, raising a brow in question.

            Dean’s eyes flashed dangerously. Mick knew he took the kid seriously. “Don’t bring Alex into this,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes at Sam. For a long moment, nothing was said. The room was silent as Sam stared at his brother. Then Dean sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…leave the kid out of this, okay? He has nothing to do with this. Josef will learn about you knowing soon enough, but for right now, it’s probably best if we just get this over quickly. Why don’t you go back to Dad?”

            Sam stiffened suddenly. “Dad,” he breathed. “Dad doesn’t know you’re a… vampire.”

            “No. And he’s not ever _going_ to know,” Dean said, his eyes narrowing again into those dangerous slits that revealed the hunter within. Mick had learned that long ago.

            “But, Dean, he’s our _dad_ ,” Sam protested instantly, shaking his head. Mick stepped back, not necessarily wanting to get caught up in their argument, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to just leave…mostly because Josef would be arriving soon and it would be best if he was down there to answer the door immediately just in case Sam wound up sticking around despite their warning.

            “He’s a _hunter_ ,” Dean emphasized, frowning at his brother. “And I’m a _vampire_. Do the math, Joe College.”

            “He’s still our dad,” Sam said, sighing heavily. “He wouldn’t do anything.”

            “He would,” Dean said. “He was already willing to kill Mick and he didn’t even know what he _was_ yet. And now, if he finds out _I’m_ supernatural as well?” He shook his head. “It’s just better for everyone if he doesn’t know, Sammy.” His gaze shifted toward Mick. “Right?”

            Mick held his hands up. “Whoa, don’t drag me into this,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I’m just here for vampire support.”

            Dean rolled his eyes and then glanced back at Sam. “Just don’t tell him anything, okay?”

            “Dean, he’s our _dad_ ,” Sam stressed. “He’s not going to _care_ that-”

            “Yes he is,” Dean cut in instantly. “And you know it. Just… don’t. Don’t tell him. Let’s just keep this between us, okay?”

            Sam bit down on his lower lip. “I don’t like keeping secrets, Dean.”

            “Isn’t that our life?”

            “You know I’ve always hated that.”

            Dean shrugged. “Yeah, well, you could have just stayed at college, you know.”

            Sam winced. “Alright, fine… I won’t tell Dad. For now. But sooner or later, Dean, you’re gonna have to tell him.”

            “I choose later,” Dean said. “Now, Sammy, you should be getting back to Dad. I’m sure he’s wondering where you are.”

            About that moment, Mick heard a strange buzzing go off. He watched as Sam pulled out a phone from his pocket. “Speak of the devil,” Sam murmured, and then nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah… I’ll go. Just…” He hesitated. “Call me later, okay?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “You’re such a needy girl, Samantha.” But there was a touch of fondness in his voice.

            Sam scowled. “Whatever, _Deana_.”

            Mick smirked as he watched Sam stand and then leave, closing the apartment door behind him. Then he quirked a brow at Dean. “Deana?” he questioned, hiding his grin.

            Dean glared. “Shut it, _Micky Mouse_.”

            Mick narrowed his eyes. “Truce.”

            Dean nodded slowly. “Truce.”

            Mick neared the couch. “Josef should be here soon. If you want, I can wake you when he arrives. You can go sleep for a bit.”

            “Nah, I’m good,” Dean said, waving him off.

            “So did you see who staked you?” Mick asked, sitting down next to him in the spot Sam had previously been occupying.

            Dean shook his head. “Nah, I was a little busy getting _staked_ ,” he said, sighing heavily. “Just some vampire… that’s really all I know. Sorry.”

            Mick shrugged. “We’ll figure it out, I’m sure,” he said, trying to sound as reassuring as he could at the moment.

            Dean shrugged. “Hopefully,” he murmured.

            The sound of rustling feathers startled both of them, causing them to both jerk and turn their heads to see Castiel standing next to the couch, watching them with his strange, unblinking eyes. Mick had to admit that it was more than a little unnerving.

            “Good thing I’m already dead,” Dean muttered, “or you feathered guys would be giving me a heart attack. I’m gonna have to get you a damn bell.”

            “Why do you keep mentioning this bell?” Castiel asked, confused as he frowned at him. “Is it important?”

            Dean shrugged. “Never mind. What do you want?”

            “The vampire who attacked you,” Castiel started seriously, “he won’t be the last.”

            “Thanks for the heads-up,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Speaking of which, where were you while this whole thing was going down, eh? I almost got my heart stabbed out of my chest!”

            “I was upstairs keeping Alex asleep,” Castiel said in his usual monotone voice.

            Mick blinked at him. “Really?”

            “Yes.”

            “Oh…” Dean paused. “Well… thanks? I guess.” He rubbed somewhat awkwardly at the back of his neck. “How is he?”

            “Sleeping.”

            “I see….” He shook his head. “So what are you doing here _now_?”

            Castiel blinked at him in that strange way he had of doing so, Mick noticed. It was more than a little creepy, he had to admit. “I have received news that more vampires are arriving in town, specifically to hunt _you_ down, Dean.”

            Dean frowned and he and Mick shared confused looks. “Why me?”

            “You are said to be the one to stop the-”

            “Yeah,” Dean cut him off, “the Apocalypse, I heard.” He shook his head and frowned at Mick. “Can you actually believe _any_ of this?”

            Mick frowned because, truthfully, it was actually hard to wrap his head around any of this. However, Dean was his friend and his sired, and they did share a bond. So whatever Dean believed was good enough for him, he decided. “I guess so,” he finally said slowly. “What do you think?”

            Dean bit down on his lower lip like he had a habit of doing when he was pensive, apprehensive, or anxious about something. Then he shrugged and returned his attention toward Castiel, who was watching them patiently in that strange, unnerving way of his. “So what do we do about the vampires?”

            “You should leave,” Castiel said bluntly. “I have told you this I do not know how many times. This city is becoming too dangerous.”

            “Too dangerous?” Dean scoffed, eyebrows raised in that comical way of his. “Dude, I’ve been living in the ‘too dangerous’ most of my life. I’m not just gonna run away when we’re right in the middle of something. Do you know what’s really going on or not? Why are they all suddenly coming after me after this long? What’s their interest in having me dead? I mean, the demons wanting me dead… I can understand that, but all the vampires, too? What the hell?”

            “‘What the hell’ is right, Dean,” Castiel said, narrowing his eyes seriously. “We have reason to believe that demons are the ones getting the vampires to believe that going after you would be the right move.”

            “But why?” Mick asked. “Why would the vampires listen to demons?”

            “They may not know they’re demons,” Dean sighed.

            “This is true,” Castiel said, nodding in agreement. “Demons may be possessing vampires and then telling them what to do. To them, it may just seem like following every day orders.”

            Dean sighed again, tiredly this time. “Just my luck,” he muttered. “When demons start possessing the _undead_ then it’s really just turned into the end of days, eh?”

            Castiel gave him a look and then promptly disappeared when the someone knocked on the door. Mick sighed, knowing it was Josef, and stood to answer the door. He pried it open to see his friend standing there. The smile on Josef’s face disappeared as Mick took the offered packages of blood, and he followed the younger vampire into the apartment and toward Dean, who was still sitting on the couch. Mick tossed Dean two of the packages and then continued toward the kitchen to hide the rest away in the back of the refrigerator.

            “What happened to you?” Josef asked when Mick returned to join the two of them. “You look like you went a few rounds with a metal table.”

            “Something like that,” Dean said, smiling faintly. “I got staked and I think Mick threw me around a little but I’m not a hundred percent sure on that one.”

            Josef quirked a brow at Mick in question. “Threw your sired around, eh?”

            Mick held his hands up defensively. “In my defense, he was trying to maul Alex at the time, so….”

            Josef nodded. “Vampire hunger is a dangerous thing,” he said knowingly, looking from Mick to Dean and then back again.

            Mick shifted uneasily, knowing what Josef was insinuating. “Yeah, tell me about it,” he muttered. “Anyway, thanks for the blood, Josef.”

            “Who came in and staked you?” Josef asked, glancing at Dean.

            Dean shrugged. “As I told Mick, I was a little busy getting _staked_ at the time, so I don’t really remember. Sorry.”

            Josef frowned. “I think the vampires are starting to make the connection quicker,” he cautioned. “I think you two should leave for a while, until things die down or something.”

            “Leave?” Mick echoed. This was his home. It was Dean’s home too. Could they really just leave?

            Josef sighed heavily. “At least leave the apartment for a while. You can take Alex with you. It would probably be safer for the kid, don’t you think? Sure, you two can fight off vampires… but the human kid?”

            Dean bit down on his lower lip again. “I guess you’re right…” he admitted slowly. “But where would you have us go?”

            Josef smiled and looked at Mick. “Logan’s.”

 

 

Sam returned to the hotel to find his father sitting on one of the two beds, waiting for him. “Where have you been?” John asked slowly as Sam closed the door behind him.

            Sam shrugged. “I just… went for a walk,” he said. He made sure to keep his arm at least mostly hidden, even though the wound should have been hidden easily enough by his sleeve, but still. One could never be too careful about these kind of things, and he’d told Dean he wouldn’t tell John anything.

            “To?”

            “Just around. I wanted to get a better feel of the city,” he said easily enough, because that had kind of been his original goal before he’d decided to veer off toward Mick’s apartment and see his brother. “What do you think is making this place such a hot spot?”

            John shrugged. “I have no idea. I did some research while you were out but there’s not really anything horrible that would lead to having them all convene here as they are so suddenly.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Have you been able to talk to Dean? Maybe he knows something about it.”

            Sam paused, hesitating. “Uh… no, no I haven’t been able to. He’s still kind of mad, I guess.” He shifted somewhat uneasily, hating that he had to lie to his father, but it was what Dean wanted. “And anyway, wouldn’t he have told us?”

            John shrugged. “Would he?”

            “Sure he would,” Sam said, even though he knew Dean had obviously changed a lot in the past few years. Still, though, he was a hunter at heart and he would have told them if he’d known something about a hunt, right?

            John shrugged and then stood. “I’m going to run out and grab some breakfast. Do you want anything?”

            Sam shook his head. “Actually, I think I’m just going to sleep for a while,” he said honestly. He was tired. He’d been out for a while.

            John nodded and headed out the door. “I’ll be back.” And then he closed the door behind him and disappeared from view.

            Sam sighed and crawled into his bed, burying his head into his pillow, wondering when life decided to get so complicated.

 

 

Logan basically lived in a basement. He technically had a house above it but he was generally located in the basement, so going in the side basement door was the best bet at finding him. Already Mick could hear the sounds of him playing Guitar Hero, like he usually did in his free time, which he had a lot of. He and Dean shared looks. Alex was currently sleeping in Dean’s arms, oblivious to the world around them. Mick figured maybe Castiel had something to do with that. He’d made the kid stay asleep, after all. Maybe it hadn’t worn off yet. Mick knocked lightly on the door.

            There was a buzzing sound, which meant it was open. Mick pushed against the door and it opened, allowing him and Dean entrance. They entered and found Logan in the middle of a Metallica song. Mick narrowed his eyes at him and Logan sighed, turning his game off as silence erupted through the room. He eyed the kid.

            “Lunch?” he asked.

            “No,” Dean said, glaring, as he shifted his hold on the kid protectively. He would have made a great dad, Mick realized. Too bad vampires couldn’t have kids. “Josef sent us.”

            “We need to stay here for a few days,” Mick said. “There’s some stuff going down and… it’s not necessarily safe at my apartment at the moment.”

            Logan shrugged. “I guess you can stay here,” he said. “I’ve got an extra freezer.”

            “…Only one?” Dean asked, frowning.

            Logan shrugged. “Take it or leave it, man. It’s not like I was expecting to have to be housing two vampires and a human kid, you know. Speaking of the kid… why do you have him?”

            “I take it you don’t check the newspapers,” Dean muttered. “It’s a long story. We’re just keeping an eye on him until the police track down his great aunt, who is currently out of the States at the moment.”

            “I see,” Logan said slowly, his brown eyes pensive. “Well, yeah, as I said, you can stay here. There’s an extra freezer in the house and I sleep down here, so you can basically have the house to yourself. The kid can sleep on the couch, I guess.”

            “Just one freezer?” Dean repeated.

            “It’s a large freezer,” Logan assured them with a grin, clearly amused.

            Mick sighed heavily. He tapped Dean lightly on the shoulder. “It’s safer than at my apartment,” he reminded him.

            Dean sighed and nodded, knowing he was right. However, Mick could feel his irritation through the bond. “Fine. But you start getting touchy-feely, Micky, and we’re going to have problems.”

            Mick rolled his eyes. “Whatever. And don’t call me Micky.”

            Logan opened his mouth to joke.

            “Quiet,” Mick snapped. “Carry on with your game and we’ll go get settled into the house.”

            Logan held his hands up defensively and nodded. “Alright.” He returned to his game as Dean and Mick left the basement and entered the house above it.

            As they entered the house, Dean glanced at him. “What about Morgue-Guy? Couldn’t we stay with him? He has _plenty_ of freezers.”

            Mick shrugged. “I don’t want to disturb his work,” he said. “Let’s just stay here. It’s only for a few days and it’s not like we’ll really be _awake_ in the freezer, after all.”

            Dean shrugged. “Robes on at all times. No exceptions,” he stated, smirking.

            “Deal,” Mick said in agreement.

 


	18. More Winged Dicks

Chapter Eighteen: More Winged Dicks

 

 

Dean woke with a yawn, stretching like he normally did, only to have his fist connect with the cold body next to him. Jerking in surprise, he barely managed to suppress his yelp of shock when he saw Mick resting peacefully next to him, completely unaware of the fact that Dean was awake and staring at him with wide green eyes. Dean blinked momentarily and then remembered where they were - they were at Logan’s and unfortunately, Logan only had one big freezer for them to sleep in , and thus they’d wound up sharing. Taking in a quiet breath, Dean opened the top of the freezer and climbed out, clad already in his robe as he’d slept in it the night before, as per their agreement. Then he quietly closed the top of the freezer, not wanting to wake Mick for the time being. His sire looked like he needed some much earned sleep.

            Yawning, Dean padded through the house, the air still and quiet around him. Through the windows, he could tell that the sun was only just beginning to rise. He winced at the beginnings of a bright morning and stalked toward the refrigerator, where he and Mick had stashed a few bags of blood the night before, once they’d gotten settled. Alex was asleep on the couch in the other room - Dean could hear his quiet, deep breaths as he slept soundly. They’d decided to keep him near them during the night even though they were sleeping in a cold freezer. That way, if someone broke in or something, searching for Dean, they’d be right there to protect the boy before anything could potentially happen.

            Dean downed a package of blood happily and tossed the remains in the trashcan next to the sink. Then he scrubbed at his eyes and moved into the small living room, where Alex was resting. The boy had somehow gotten hopelessly tangled in his covers. Smirking as he shook his head, Dean moved toward the couch and lightly pried the cover up a little, draping it comfortably over the boy so he would stay warm and content in his sleep. Then he moved toward his duffel, which was on the ground a few feet away from the couch, next to Mick’s. They were almost the same color, and so it took Dean a moment to realize which one was actually his. He could tell by a slight rip on the side of his bag, caused by one of his blades that had poked through it when he’d been a teenager. A smirk appeared on his face as he remembered that day so long ago.

            His dad hadn’t been too happy about it, especially when the hotel clerk had noticed it and had gotten frightened, thinking they were killers or something. John had thankfully been able to explain everything - though Dean wasn’t necessarily sure exactly what his father had said to the frightened man - and Sammy had been asleep in the car while they checked in.

            Dean sighed heavily, shaking his head sadly. Even his duffel reminded him of faraway times and his family, of a life he would never get back. He knew that Sam and John were confused by his behavior now - he knew it was upsetting to them to see him this way, but he couldn’t go back to how he was before. He wasn’t that person anymore, and he didn’t know how to be the Dean they knew, the Dean they wanted. He was a different person, a more independent person, and though things may not have turned out how he’d planned or wanted, he did find himself liking the new him. The old Dean wouldn’t have ever stuck up for himself in front of his brother and father. The old Dean wouldn’t have told Sammy and John what he’d been feeling when they’d ditched him - the old Dean wouldn’t have even mentioned it.

            The old Dean would have called them every day. The new Dean, though, found it hard to even remember to do so, and now that he was thinking about it, he figured he’d better give Sam a call. If his brother showed up at Mick’s place and found that no one was there, he wasn’t sure what would happen. Sam and John would probably track him down again, and he still couldn’t quite believe that they’d managed to do it last time. His family had actually been searching for him all this time, for four long years, and had finally tracked him down and had returned to his life.

            He wasn’t sure what shocked him more - the fact that they had kept looking, or the fact that they had found him. It was probably a little of both. It wasn’t that he thought badly about his family - God knew that would never happen, he loved John and Sam - but sometimes… they did make him feel underappreciated. It was like he was a third wheel - or, at least, that was what it had been like growing up. He had been the good boy, Daddy’s little soldier, a robot with no clear thoughts of his own, according to Sam on the night he’d left for college so angrily. A grimace crossed Dean’s face as he thought back on it. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he grabbed a clean pair of clothes from his duffel and then left the room, entering a side bathroom off to the right.

            Quickly, he changed into a deep red shirt with silver flames licking the sides. He smiled - he liked that shirt. Mick had gotten it for him for Christmas last year, stating that Dean himself had no fashion, which had left to Dean questioning Mick’s manhood. It had been a great time, he had to admit, and one of the better Christmases he’d had in a long time. In his late teenage years, Christmas hadn’t been that great simply because Sam had been a moody teenager and John had been out on hunts seemingly all the time, leaving him in charge. Soon Sam had become numb to gift-giving. He rarely got Dean something, preferring instead to shove himself into schoolwork that wasn’t even homework, but he was doing it anyway, and thus Dean had wound up giving a terribly wrapped gift to a brother who merely grunted in response. For years it was like that.

            And then Sammy left for college, and of course Dad didn’t want anything to do with Christmas. One time, Dean had spent it with Bobby, which had been kind of nice. Dean sighed. He missed Bobby. Christmas with Bobby had been great, because Bobby had fixed his famous chili and the two of them had gotten quite drunk and had spent the whole next day paying tribute to the Porcelain God…which maybe hadn’t been that great, but still. And then the rest of the Christmases…had been dark. He’d spent them alone, by himself in his hotel room with a bottle of something alcoholic and a lonely TV program. Sometimes he would just sit in the Impala and think about his life.

            Ah, he missed the Impala. He was seriously going to have to get Mick to get rid of his ban of the vehicle. What was the use in hiding it now? Sam and John already knew where he was.

            Dean emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, combing his fingers through his hair. Mick stood leaning against the wall and Dean staggered in surprise, nearly walking right into him. Taking a quick step back, he chuckled nervously, obviously startled, and said, “Morning, Micky.”

            Mick scowled at the name like he always did, but said nothing about it. Instead, he said, “Your annoying worried thoughts woke me up.” Then he sighed and entered the bathroom Dean had just exited, leaving Dean to roll his eyes after his sire. It wasn’t his fault he’d been leaking… right? Then again, he was usually better able to control the wall to the bond so he didn’t bother Mick. He’d been distracted, though, with thoughts and memories.

            Shaking his head, he pushed away from the wall and dropped his robe on top of his duffel. Alex was still sleeping soundly, his face buried in his pillow, his hair tussled and hanging over his peacefully closed eyes.

            Mick emerged from the bathroom a moment later, dressed in clean clothes much like Dean. “What’s the plan for today?” Dean asked casually, sighing.

            Mick paused and then shook his head. “Not really sure. Maybe you should talk to your angel friends or-”

            Dean scoffed. “Cas? Not my friend. Just some nerdy angel stalker.” He nodded, satisfied with his words.

            Mick rolled his eyes. “Well, whatever you want to call him. We need to know what’s going on, exactly who is all after you, and how we can stop them. We need more information if we’re ever going to figure this thing out, Dean.”

            “I know,” Dean sighed glumly. “And to think, this is the part I always hated the most about hunting… the research.”

 

 

Sam stood outside of Mick’s door, knocking. He had been doing so for a good five minutes now, but still, there was no answer. Were they not home? Sam frowned to himself and continued knocking, before he pulled out his phone and dialed Dean’s number. Part of his mind wondered, as he dialed that familiar and once painful number, if all of this had just been a dream and that Dean was still missing. However, he shoved those thoughts away when the voicemail picked up and it was Dean’s new message, the one he hadn’t necessarily meant to leave but had helped Sam and John find him after so many years.

            Sam debated about leaving a message, but decided against it. Obviously this was Dean’s old phone, the one he had accidentally left the message on. He probably didn’t have that particular phone with him, which meant he probably had his new one. The one Sam didn’t have the number to, and that meant he couldn’t contact his brother.

            It was like square one all over again. Sam was left with a number to a phone that wouldn’t be answered, with no way to talk to Dean. It was like Dean was missing all over again.

            Sam scowled, shoving those thoughts away. Dean wasn’t missing - he just wasn’t home right now, and Mick was probably out as well. Maybe they’d taken Alex somewhere or something, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t just start thinking that Dean was missing and that things were like before, because they weren’t. Dean would call him soon.

            Right?

            Sam frowned, biting down on his lower lip. Sure, things had been pretty rocky since he and John had found Dean after all these years, but since Sam had allowed Dean to feed from him, he’d thought things were better. Dean was still different, but no one could be expected to stay the same forever, right? Sam mentally flinched, because vampires _did_ stay the same forever…the same age, anyway, pretty much the same appearance.

            _Okay, stop thinking about that,_ Sam thought to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face. Having these thoughts certainly wasn’t helping matters any.

            Quietly, he walked away from Mick’s door, hoping that Dean would call him soon. Absently, he fingered the bandage he’d put on his arm where Dean had fed on him. John hadn’t noticed, and it helped that Sam usually wore long-sleeved shirts anyway, and that John was pretty preoccupied with what was happening here in LA, what with the demons and Dean and the fact that Mick was a supernatural creature.

            Sam winced. It was obvious John hated Mick, be it because Dean was staying with him and he thought Mick was the reason Dean hadn’t called them, or because Mick was a supernatural creature, he didn’t know. Either way, it wasn’t good. Dean had already shown them that he wouldn’t stand for them bad-mouthing Mick or accusing him of anything, and now Sam pretty much understood why. However, what about John? He wanted to tell John about Dean, maybe help clear up some of his doubts because it had certainly helped Sam. But he couldn’t - for one, Dean had asked him not to, and also because he wasn’t quite sure how his father would really react.

            Would John do anything? Would he really go after Dean simply because he was a vampire? Sam didn’t think so, but a part of him whispered that it was maybe a possibility. He would keep quiet for now, but sooner or later, the fact that Dean was a vampire was going to come to light, and he just hoped that things wouldn’t fall down around them when it did.

 

 

The sound of feathers alerted Dean to Castiel’s presence. He sighed and turned to face the angel only to be tapped in the head before he could so, and suddenly he blinked and he was somewhere else entirely. Looking around in confusion, he turned to question Castiel on it, but saw instead that it was someone different. A bald guy with a somewhat pointed nose stood before him, dressed in a business suit, his dark eyes watching Dean with something like amusement.

            “Who the hell are you?” Dean hissed, stepping back as he narrowed his eyes. _Who is this? Is he an angel too? Crap, when did I start believing this angel stuff?_ he thought to himself as the person before him chuckled.

            “Such foul language, Dean,” the person said with a faint smile.

            “How do you know who I am? And who are you?” Dean snapped.

            “Has Castiel told you nothing?”

            Dean narrowed his eyes. _So yeah, this guy must be an angel too… great, just what I need… more winged dicks in my life…_ He sighed. “You got a name or do you want me to call you Flappy?”

            The man shook his head. “My name is Zachariah. I am… well, I suppose you could call me Castiel’s boss.”

            “Ah, the dick in charge of another dick. Got it.” Dean nodded, sighing heavily. “So… where am I? And why?”

            “I believe Castiel has told you of the Apocalypse.”

            “Apparently I’m supposed to stop it, but I don’t see how that’s really going to work, but whatever.” Dean shrugged.

            “Have you heard of a demon named Lilith?” Zachariah asked casually.

            Dean paused, his mind flashing back to how this whole mess had started, when that little girl had flipped Mick’s car seemingly so long ago. “She’s a demon… she said she was looking for me.”

            “Correct. Lilith is a very powerful demon,” Zachariah said, “she has a pretty definite goal in mind.”

            “And that is?” Dean drawled, hating that angels seemed to like to leave out important details.

            “For one, she wants you dead.”

            “I think that’s a given,” Dean said, crossing his arms. “Continue.”

            “She is also trying to break the Seals. She has already broken quite a few while we have been searching for you.”

            “…Seals?”

            “The Seals that will eventually set Lucifer free if she is not stopped.”

 


	19. Boss Angel

Chapter Nineteen: Boss Angel

 

 

 

Dean stared at Zachariah with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Lilith was breaking the Seals? What exactly did that mean? “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” he spoke his thoughts aloud, frowning at the newest angel, Castiel’s boss. He looked like a boss, too, as though the wore the title proudly. He was probably the type of guy - or angel, Dean wasn’t picky, he knew an ass when he saw one - who reveled in the fact that he got to order others around and demanded respect due to his superior authority. Dean hated dicks like that.

            “Language, Dean,” Zachariah chastened again. Dean got the mental image of someone waving his finger at him because of something ‘naughty’ he’d done, or so the adults had put it when he was a little kid. Back then, he would have felt shame for doing something wrong because that would mean his father would be unhappy with him. And back when his mother was alive, he never would have dreamed of attempting to do anything wrong. Now, though, was a completely different story.

            He didn’t really give a damn what this angel thought of him. “You gonna answer me or not, Flappy?”

            Zachariah’s dark eyes narrowed at him dangerously. Dean got the air of an omnipotent being around him. This just made him glare all the more, because no one was all-powerful. No matter how tough they seemed, everyone and everything had a weakness. One just needed to know how to find it and expose it and use it to their advantage. He would find Zachariah’s weakness, he promised himself. Especially if the angel kept looking up his nose at him like he was now.

            “You will show me some respect,” Zachariah told him.

            “Oh, will I?” Dean laughed darkly. “And when was this decided? Because you have done _nothing_ to earn my respect, pal. So if you want it, you’d better get crackin’.” What prompted him to immediately mouth off to this guy, Dean wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just the air of assholery surrounding him, if that was even a word. Ah, screw it - it was a word in Dean’s vocabulary. “Just answer my question. It’s obvious you guys want something from me, and if you seriously want me to… I don’t know, _help_ you, then you’d better give me some damn answers.”

            Zachariah full-out glared at him. It was strange to see, coming from an angel, because Castiel usually just gave him this blank stare. “Lilith is going to try and break the rest of the Seals. There are many of them, but she only has to break 66 of them. So far, she has managed to break 57 of them.”

            “Okay…”

            “Think of them like locks on a door,” came Castiel’s voice as the trench coat-wearing angel appeared suddenly next to Zachariah, nearly giving Dean a heart attack - if he was alive with a beating heart, that was.

            “Okay,” Dean said, seemingly more at ease with talking to Castiel. He focused on the guy in the trench coat and ignored the other dick with wings. Zachariah… he did not like, he decided. There was just an air about him that didn’t sit well with him, and he had learned long ago to trust his instincts and gut feelings. And his gut was grumbling that Zachariah was not to be trusted. Castiel, on the other hand… well, Dean wasn’t quite sure what to really think of him yet. “Last one opens… and…?” he prompted.

            “Lucifer walks free,” Castiel said seriously, his voice, as always, pitched low. Dean blinked at him for a moment and then glanced - reluctantly - at Zachariah. It was hard to tell if Castiel was serious or if he was kidding because he always sounded that way. Plus, Dean wasn’t sure he believed any of this. He was still having a hard time swallowing the ‘angels are real’ piece of information.

            “You’re… kidding, right?” He really wanted them to be joking.

            But apparently, joking just wasn’t the way of an angel, because Zachariah nodded, his expression just as blank and yet as serious as Castiel’s. It was more than a little creepy, Dean had to admit.

            “We do not ‘kid’,” Castiel told him as though confused.

            Dean sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, trying to take all of this in. Okay, so angels were real. And he was still trying to wrap his head around the ‘Apocalypse’ thing. But now this? Along with the hit out on him? It was just too much to handle at once, not to mention the sudden arrival of his family and all that came with them being here.

            “Right… of course not.” Dean sighed again and shook his head, dropping his hand as he looked once more at the two angels who stood next to each other just a few feet in front of him. “So… how do we stop her?”

            “We must stop her from breaking the Seals,” Castiel said solemnly. “And we must keep you safe.”

            “Why?” Dean blinked at him. “What’s my part in all of this? I don’t understand.”

            And really, he didn’t. He didn’t understand any of this. Out of everyone in the world… why him? What made him so special that he literally had angel protection? Not to mention he was a _vampire_ , part of the undead, which should have made the angels want even _less_ to do with him. He just didn’t get it. Why him and not someone else?

            “You have a major part to play in all of this that you haven’t yet realized,” Zachariah told him slowly.

            “Okay. Wanna shed some light on that, Flappy?”

            “My name is Zachariah,” the angel spat angrily. “Show me some respect, boy.”

            Dean sighed. Castiel looked between the two of them, a faint frown on his face as though he didn’t understand their tension. He probably didn’t, the confused, naïve angel he was.

            “What’s my part in all of this?” Dean asked again.

            “We aren’t to tell you yet,” Castiel told him. “I apologize for the inconvenience, Dean.”

            He really did sound sorry, but Dean just shook his head. “Why me?” he whispered slowly. “Out of everyone… why _me_?”

            “It has to be you,” Zachariah told him.

            “It was always you,” Castiel said.

            “What do you mean by _that_?” Dean narrowed his eyes at the two of them.

            “It was prophesized, Dean,” Zachariah said. “And I’m afraid that is all we can say on the subject.” He gave Castiel a pointed look on the word ‘we’ and Castiel blinked at him in response. Dean wondered if angels had telepathic abilities.

            _Probably,_ he thought to himself. _They’ve probably read your mind like a diary since they’ve met you. They probably even know what you’re thinking right now about them knowing what you’re thinking. Gah, I’m confusing myself. Shut up, Dean._

            And he quieted his mind - for the time being, anyway.

            “We must stop Lilith, Dean,” Castiel said, looking at him with his blank blue eyes.

            Dean blinked at him. “Well, yeah,” he said, agreeing, leaving out the ‘duh’ that he wanted to say. “How, though?”

            “You’re the hunter,” Zachariah said with a smile. “You figure it out.”

            And then he just disappeared with a flutter of wings. Dean couldn’t see them but he could hear them, and then suddenly Zachariah was gone. Dean glared at where the angel had previously been standing. “Well fuck you, too,” he grumbled.

            “Language,” Castiel chided.

            Dean sent him a look but said nothing about it. For some reason, he wasn’t as angry when Castiel was the one telling him to stop the bad language. When Zachariah said it, it just made Dean want to punch the smug bastard in the angelic face.

            “So…how do I find her, if I’m going to stop her?” Dean asked slowly, looking at Castiel. The angel was still standing where he was, a serene and quiet aura around him. Dean felt a little more at ease with him there, but the angel also annoyed him to some extent, too. He was just too damn calm all the time. And he had a creepy staring problem. C’mon! Everyone had to blink at some point in time - even angels. Right?

            “As I have been saying, Dean, you must leave this place,” Castiel said simply. “Lilith is not staying in one place for very long. You will have to track her down. And it is getting too dangerous here, with all of her followers after you.”

            “But… I can’t just leave,” Dean said quietly. “I… I’m a vampire. I need a freezer to sleep in. I have nowhere else to go.”

            And wasn’t that the truth?

            “I can teleport your freezer wherever you want to go,” Castiel told him. “You only have to ask.”

            Dean paused for a moment. “Thanks,” he said. The offer was a lot, coming from a normal stoic angel. “But… what about Mick? I got him into this mess. People will go after him now that they seem to know I’ve been staying with him. And Sam and Dad - they just found me. I can’t just… walk away again.” He didn’t have the strength to walk away again. He loved his family, and while things were rocky right now, he didn’t want to just leave them. Even if Dad did hate him later if he found out he was a vampire, he still didn’t want to just leave again. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Doing it the first time had been hard enough. Just the thought of doing it again was unbearable.

            Castiel frowned at him. It wasn’t often that the angel showed expressions, and so for a moment, Dean felt like smirking. Then he fought the urge off and frowned as well.

            “I suppose you should talk to Mick about this,” Castiel said, stepping forward. Two fingers reached out to tap Dean on the forehead. “I will take you back to Logan’s - that is where you are staying, right?”

            “Yeah,” Dean sighed.

            The fingers connected with his head and he felt himself being fluttered to somewhere else. When he blinked, he was standing in Logan’s living room. Alex was asleep on the couch again, and he stirred lightly when Dean appeared. He quickly settled back into sleep, though, and Dean looked around. Mick came out of the bathroom and frowned at him. Castiel was nowhere in sight.

            “What was that all about?” Mick asked.

            Dean paused. “What do you know about the Seals?” he asked, casually flopping into a recliner.

 

 

Bobby Singer grumbled to himself as he walked around his house out in Sioux Falls. It was quiet this time of year, but then again, around here it always seemed to be quiet. Sometimes he preferred it that way. Sometimes he wondered why he didn’t just move into a town or city or something so it wasn’t so quiet. Then again, the noise wasn’t good for business. Hunters liked to keep things quiet. And his location at the moment allowed him to run his side business of fixing up cars. And it was nice to have a hobby, something to take his mind off of the dark things in the world that were killing people every day.

            He hadn’t heard from John or Sam in a few days. That wasn’t sitting well with him. The last he’d heard, they were heading to California to search for Dean. Sam had been excited and very hopeful, stating that there had been a change in Dean’s voicemail. Bobby himself had called it and heard the change for himself. It had been great to hear Dean’s voice again, not that tired recording from before. Even though this was still just a recording, Dean sounded rather happy in it. And it was new, which meant it was recent, which mean Dean was alive. Right?

            Bobby had offered to go with them to find Dean - after all, the boy was like a son to him just like Sam was - but John and Sam had said they wanted to do this on their own. Dean was their family. That had stabbed at Bobby a little, but he didn’t say anything and he let them go. Now it had been a while and he hadn’t heard from them. It was eating at him.

            He had tried calling John earlier, but it hadn’t even rung once before going to John’s stern voicemail. Either he had it off or he’d forgotten to charge it again. It happened, after all.

            He had debated about calling Sam, but he knew that if something happened, Sam would be the first to call him. That was just how it was. He and Sam used to be close…when Dean and Sam were kids. Now, though, Sam seemed rather…distant. Always searching for Dean but rarely the sweet, innocent kid that he had been. It was different now. Even though the two weren’t as close as before, he knew Sam would eventually call. And he wasn’t going to pressure the kid.

            Still, though, it would have been nice to know they were okay. As a hunter, he knew one had to wait a few days before they could really worry. Except in Dean’s case, of course. First he had talked to Bobby, sounding normal. Then when Bobby had called back later, he hadn’t answered. That had been more than a little strange, because Dean _always_ answered. It was his policy. Bobby thought that maybe it was to make up for the fact that John and Sam never answered his calls. Over the time Sam was away at college and John was out on his own, Bobby and Dean had gotten rather close. So Dean’s sudden disappearance had left Bobby’s head spinning.

            Heaving a large sigh, Bobby once again pulled out his phone - he really didn’t care much for cell phones, preferring landlines instead, but when one was a hunter, cell phones were just in the job description - and sifted through his numbers, settling on John’s number again. He let it ring several times and then sighed when it went to voicemail.

            “Damn it, John, pick up the damn phone,” he muttered to himself, much as he had back when Dean had been trying to get a hold of his father. He remembered the torn look on Dean’s face when John continued to not answer. Bobby had wanted to take a shotgun to John at the time for doing that to Dean after Sam had pretty much done the same thing. He knew it had eaten away at the elder brother.

            He decided he would wait one more day - no more than that because he was already at his limit - and then he would call Sam if no one had contacted him by then. It had been too long already. Didn’t those Winchesters realize that he worried about them?

            _Idjits,_ he thought to himself with a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his grizzled face full of stubble.

            The next time he saw those Winchesters, he was going to have to knock some sense into their stubborn heads.

 

 

“So what are you saying?” Mick asked, frowning at Dean as he tried to fully understand the words coming out of the younger vampire’s mouth. Dean sighed as though frustrated and paced. They were standing just outside of Logan’s house. Alex was sleeping on the couch still and they hadn’t wanted to disturb him.

            “I’m saying that… I think Cas is right.” Dean sighed heavily as though it hurt him to say those words. “I should go. I can’t just let Lilith break the Seals. I mean, I don’t know if I believe any of this or not… but Lilith is a demon. We saw her. She’s powerful and someone has to stop her.”

            “Yeah, but… why you?” Mick asked, confused. Why did Dean think he had to do everything? Certainly there were other hunters who could take care of it. Dean had said he was out of the game. “Surely someone else could-”

            “No. According to the angel dicks, it has to be me.” Dean scowled as though annoyed at the very idea. Then he shrugged. “Plus, Cas does have a point. Staying here doesn’t look like an option, not with everyone after me. I’ve never been one to flee, but…” He rubbed a hand awkwardly across the back of his neck as he gave a slow shrug, a faint roll of his shoulders. “The flight response is pretty high at the moment. I can’t fight them all at once.”

            Mick sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his face, moving his fingers back to ruffle his somewhat shaggy hair. He had yet to brush it today, even though brushing it rarely helped to tame the dark locks. “So what you’re saying is… you’re leaving. Because the angels told you to.”

            Dean scowled again. “Well when you put it like that you make me seem like someone’s bitch,” he complained, folding his arms across his chest petulantly. He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Look… I don’t know what the right move is here. But I do know that Cas has a point. Staying here…isn’t safe. And there’s Alex to worry about. I can’t put him in danger just because he’s near me. That’s not right. He doesn’t deserve that - he’s seen enough as it is.”

            Mick frowned. “So you’re going to leave him here with me?” he asked, surprised. He wasn’t that great with children. Dean had been the one mostly taking care of Alex thus far - Mick was just there for support, really. He knew nothing about kids. He’d thought he might have wanted them when he had gotten married, but his wife had turned out to be a vampire who had turned him one their wedding night, and that dream had gone out the window along with his humanity.

            Dean shifted a little uneasily. Through their bond, Mick could feel that he was nervous about something, probably what he was going to ask or suggest next. Mick frowned at him, waiting for a response, trying to let him know through the bond that he wouldn’t be angry with whatever Dean had to say. It was a sire’s job to sooth the fears of their sired, after all, and he prided himself on the fact that he tried hard to be a good sire. He figured he owed it to Dean for robbing him of his human life and all that came with it.

            “I was thinking… I mean if you want…”

            “Yeah?” Mick prompted.

            “You should probably come with me,” Dean sighed at last, averting his gaze uneasily to the ground. “They’ll probably be after you too, since they know I’ve been staying with you. It wouldn’t be safe for you either.”

            Mick paused because he honestly hadn’t thought of that. For a moment, he looked at the ground, lost in thought. Then he looked up and nodded. “Alright.”

            Dean looked up, startled. “Yeah?”

            “Alright,” Mick repeated slowly.

A change of location would be good for them, he was sure. Besides, he’d been in LA for a long time now. It was good for vampires to move around and not linger in one place for too long because otherwise it raised a lot of questions about why they didn’t age. Plus, Dean had a point. The vampires and demons would be coming after him to find Dean now, even if Dean left. Plus, there was Alex to consider. He was Dean’s sire and he couldn’t just let him go on his own, could he? Or maybe that was the friendship talking, because Dean really was a good friend, almost like they were family, of a kind. A vampire family, but a family nevertheless, and Mick wasn’t eager to rid himself of that just yet.

            “…Really?” Dean cocked his head in confusion. “I mean, this is your home and-”

            “I’ll go. It’s for the best, right? Besides, I’ve been here a while anyway.”

            “But Josef-” Dean started.

            Mick frowned and then shook his head, cutting him off. “Josef will understand. He’s moved around a lot. I can still call him and stuff, and I have no doubt he will still make spontaneous visits. It’s in his nature.” That was what best friends were for, right?

            Dean released a slow breath. “Alright… if you’re sure.”

            “I’m sure. What do we do now?”

            Dean blinked and paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well… I’ll have to at least tell Sam.”

            “Where will we go? What about our freezers?”

            “Cas said he could teleport them wherever we go,” Dean replied. “Um… you know…” He smiled suddenly. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked to Bobby. I wonder if a random visit would be okay?”

            Mick quirked a brow at him.

 


	20. Road Trip, Winchester Style Part 1

Chapter Twenty: Road Trip, Vampire Style pt 1

 

 

It was a brilliant day - the best in history, Dean was sure - when he got his car, the beloved Impala, out of storage and sat in the driver’s seat for the first time in four years. Next to him, in the passenger seat, sat Mick, who looked utterly amused as he quirked a brow at him. “Satisfied?” the elder vampire drawled as Dean keyed the ignition.

            “Listen to her purr,” Dean cooed as he gripped the steering wheel lovingly.

            “Honestly,” Mick snorted, “the amount of love you have for this car… it’s unhealthy.” He shook his head.

            Dean, in far too good of a mood to let anything damper his spirits, just threw him a large smile and drove out of the storage lot. It felt great to be driving his beloved car again. It felt almost freeing, as though nothing in this world could stop him or get him down. This car was familiar - it was home. _Home_. A home he had grown up with, a member of his family that had never left him. Something he could always count on to be there for him, even when times were hard. Yes, this car meant a lot to him and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. No way. He was just so happy to finally be able to drive it again.

            Mick chuckled. “It doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it?”

            “Not really, no,” Dean agreed with a smile as he rounded a corner. “Just give me my car and I’m fine with that. It’s also nice to kick ass, but whatever.”

            Mick shook his head. “So what are we going to do?”

            “Well… I was thinking we pick Alex up, take him out for ice cream, and then explain to him that we have to leave and that we’re going on a fun little road trip to South Dakota. And I still have to call Sam and let him know.”

            Mick scowled. “Do you have to?”

            Dean threw him a look. “Yeah, man. He’s my brother.” He knew Mick still didn’t much care for Sam, even though Sam had let Dean feed from him. “You’re going to have to get used to him - he knows about us.” And Dean felt oddly relived that Sammy knew, that Sammy hadn’t really judged him. Sam seemed okay with it - maybe a little awkward about it at times, but otherwise okay with it, for which Dean was glad.

            “Won’t he tell your father, though?” Mick frowned.

            Dean hesitated. “I told him not to. I don’t think he will… at least for the time being.”

Sam probably wouldn’t say anything about it unless the situation demanded it or John absolutely had to know. He shifted uneasily in his seat, wondering if that situation would come up soon. He hoped not, because he really didn’t want his father to hate him just yet. Not yet. Maybe he could deal with it later - he doubted it - but not right now. Not when he’d finally been able to talk to his family again.

            “How do you think Bobby will react to it?” Mick asked, watching him calmly.

            Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I don’t think he’ll kill me,” he said slowly. Bobby was more understanding than John. Dean knew that much. With John, there was no gray area. With Bobby… well, it was just easier with Bobby. Even though Sam was always Bobby’s favorite - at least in Dean’s eyes, it seemed that way - he didn’t think Bobby would just go and kill him for being different.

            Mick nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, at least for now. And Dean was happy he didn’t ask any more questions.

            They drove back to Logan’s. Alex was waiting for them out on the front porch. Logan was standing next to him, scowling, probably because he was being taken away from his game time to watch the kid while they were gone. Dean grinned at the sight and parked along the curb. Alex bounded toward him happily, a gleeful smile present on his face. Dean chuckled and climbed out of the car, picking the kid up and walking back toward the porch as Mick laughed at him.

            “Hey, man,” Dean greeted Alex with a smirk. “How would you like some ice cream?”

            Alex nodded enthusiastically, wrapping his small arms around Dean’s neck with a wide smile.

            “Alright. Let’s go.” Dean looked at Mick, who turned to Logan. The two talked for a moment and then Mick joined Dean on the sidewalk in front of the house as Logan disappeared back into said house. “We’re walking, right?”

            “Yeah, it’s not that far,” Mick told him.

            “Alright.” They started walking, Dean carrying Alex and Mick walking slightly behind them. Dean glanced back at his car, worrying that maybe someone would hit it or something, but he quickly shook the thought away. He was worrying too much. His car would be fine. He was just happy it was finally out of storage. Finally, after all these years.

            They arrived at the ice cream parlor soon enough and Alex happily started munching down on a large vanilla cone. Dean and Mick sat down at a table in the corner and watched him. Alex was sitting smack in the middle of them. Dean sighed as he looked at the ice cream. He missed ice cream. And vanilla was his favorite - simple and yet delicious at the same time. He missed it. He couldn’t taste it as a vampire, though.

            A young woman who was sitting in a table not too far from them smiled. “Oh, he’s so cute!” she gushed, watching Alex. Dean smiled. “Is he yours?” She frowned at the two of them.

            “No,” Dean said. “We’re just watching him for someone for the time being.” He didn’t need people getting the wrong idea, after all.

            She nodded and smiled again, watching Alex eat his ice cream. Alex seem oblivious to the attention he was getting, focusing intently on his vanilla ice cream as though it was the most important thing in his life.

            _This kid is a chick magnet,_ Dean thought to himself, hiding a smile. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage…

            It had been a while since he’d been with anyone, after all. Like four years. He hadn’t wanted to be with anyone since he was a vampire, but now… maybe he could. After all, vampires couldn’t get people pregnant. So he didn’t have to worry about any kids with random women. Then again, the thought of having a could would have been nice… He sighed heavily at the thought because it simply wasn’t going to happen. He had always wanted a family, even though he had scoffed whenever someone mentioned it to him. That life wasn’t for him - he knew that. He did. He was a hunter and didn’t need a family. He didn’t need to drag anyone else into this life. But it would have been nice. It was nice to dream about it.

            Alex was almost like his family now. It was nice, having someone to take care of, someone who looked up at him with joy no matter what. Someone who was innocent and didn’t judge him. But it wouldn’t last, because as soon as Alex’s aunt showed back up in the States, she would take him back. He was sure of it.

            Why had Alex been given to him? Why had the angels told Alex to go to him? It didn’t make any sense, and he worried about what it meant. He vowed to himself that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Alex. The kid had already seen enough horror and destruction and he was only eight. He didn’t need any more darkness in his life. Dean was going to keep him safe.

            Or die trying.

            Die again, anyway. If one was undead and they died, did that mean they un-died so that they could die? Gah. All this thinking was making his head hurt, and it wasn’t like vampires could just take aspirin. It didn’t work that way.

            Mick was frowning at him when Dean came back into himself. He shook his head at his sire’s questioning look and focused instead on Alex as he finished up his ice cream.

            “So… Alex.” Dean cleared his throat and waited for Alex to look at him with eyes full of so much trust. Dean almost flinched. How could someone trust him that much? “How would you like to go on a road trip?”

 

 

Sam didn’t recognize the number calling his phone, but he sighed and answered it anyway. “Hello?” he asked, sitting heavily on his hotel bed. John had gone out earlier - for what, Sam didn’t know, but he was sure his father would tell him when he got back, whenever that would be.

            “Hey, Sammy,” Dean chirped cheerfully, causing Sam to startle and jump to his feet, his eyes flying open wide.

            “Dean!” he yelled. “Where are you? Where have you been? I went by Mick’s and no one was there!” He struggled to calm his worries and fear, because Dean was just fine. He wasn’t missing - he just wasn’t at Mick’s at the moment. This wasn’t like before, because Dean was clearly talking to him now, which was different than before.

            “Whoa, calm down, Samantha,” Dean said with a chuckle. The sound and the name-calling actually made Sam calm a little, his breaths evening out somewhat. “After the fiasco with the… stake, Mick and I decided it would be best if we left his place for a while, so we’re staying at the house of a friend of his. And yes, before you ask, he’s also a vampire. But Alex is perfectly safe, I assure you. Logan is harmless - he’s more interested in his games.”

            “Games?” Sam echoed dumbly, trying to take all of this in.

            “Yeah - he’s got this weird fascination with Guitar Hero.”

            Sam chuckled despite himself, feeling the tension around his heart ease at Dean’s words and just the sound of his voice. It was good to hear from his brother. “So where are you?”

            “At Logan’s, but we’re going to be leaving soon.”

            “Oh… where are you going?” Sam asked, frowning.

            “Um… do you think Bobby would mind if I made a little visit?”

            Sam’s eyes widened into giant saucers. “Hell no! He’d love that! He’s been worried sick, Dean! And shit… I can’t believe I forgot to call and tell him we found you!”

            “Could you hold off on that for the time being?” Dean asked slowly.

            Sam frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked, sitting back down on his bed finally.

            “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise him by showing up at his place, is all.”

            “He might shoot you,” Sam warned, a little amused at his brother’s idea. Dean always did like to get a rile out of people, and startling Bobby was always high on his list because Bobby didn’t seem so easy to startle. Bobby also hated surprises.

            “I’m a vampire, Sammy, he can’t hurt me,” Dean said with a chuckle. “And… yes, I do plan on telling him. I mean… he’s Bobby, right? He won’t… I don’t know.”

            “He won’t care, Dean,” Sam said quickly, wanting to ease his brother’s fears like Dean always managed to do for him. He was just happy Dean was talking to him about this now. It was almost like they were really brothers again, like before, and he thoroughly enjoyed that feeling. “He’ll just be happy to see you.”

            “Good,” Dean said. “Mick, Alex, and I are going to drive there soon. You, uh… You and Dad can come, if you want. If Dad promises _not_ to shoot Mick again, or cause him trouble of any kind. And I mean _any_ kind.”

            Sam swallowed. “I’ll talk to him,” he promised.

            “Alright. And… we have a lot to talk about, Sammy. A lot has happened recently… with the… angels and everything. I have a lot to tell you and Dad… if he agrees to not try anything, that is.”

            “You’re going to tell him?”

            “About me being a vampire? Hell no. I’m not suicidal, Sammy.”

            “He won’t kill you-” Sam tried to tell him.

            “You don’t know that,” Dean cut him off. “You can’t know that. Dad’s a hunter through and through, Sammy. And I’m a vampire. You do the math. You saw how he reacted to Mick.”

            “Yeah, but… Dean, he just thinks Mick is making you… I don’t know, not want to be with us,” Sam said quietly. “He’s scared, Dean.”

            Dean scoffed on the other end of the line. It was a familiar rumble in Sam’s ear. “Dad’s never _scared_ , Sam.”

            “Yeah he is,” Sam murmured. “You haven’t seen him, Dean. You didn’t see him the past four years. He wasn’t just scared - Dad was _terrified_.” Sam could remember the wild look in his father’s eyes as they hunted down lead after lead and only found dead ends and more questions after Dean’s disappearance. He could remember those moments when John had allowed himself to silently cry when he thought no one was looking. He knew. John had been terrified and had looked like a truly pained father who had just lost his son. All those times Sam had said John didn’t care when they were younger, he’d been so very wrong. Just like Dean was wrong now.

            And wow - he’d never thought he’d be _defending_ his father. But yet, here he was, doing just that.

            Dean was quiet for a long moment as though processing what Sam had just said. Then he said, very quietly, “Really?”

            “Yes, Dean,” Sam sighed. “Really.”

            He hated that Dean seemed to think that they had just forgotten about him when he had disappeared. How could he think they would just do that? Had they really been so horrible to Dean as a family that he would immediately think they would barely even look for him? Sam wished he could change Dean’s line of thinking, but he knew it would take a while for that to happen. He had a lot to make up for - so did John.

            “I never meant to… worry anyone,” Dean said slowly, sounding a little guilty.

            Sam shook his head even though he knew Dean couldn’t see it. “Why would you think we wouldn’t care? You went missing, Dean. We didn’t know where you were or if you were even _alive_. Do you know how that felt?”

            “I’m sorry,” Dean apologized, his voice sincere.

            “I know you are.” Sam sighed heavily. “And I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I led you to think that way.”

            “Sammy, it’s not your-”

            “Yeah, it is my fault… and Dad’s.” Sam swallowed. “But I’m going to make up for it, Dean - I promise you.”

            There was another pause.

            And then Dean sighed. “I know you will, Sammy.” Then he cleared his throat. “Okay, enough with this chick-flick, yeah?”

            Sam smiled slowly. “Yeah, Dean. We’re not girls.”

            “Well, I know I’m not, but I’m not so sure about you, Samantha.”

            Sam just shook his head again. “What about, um…” He hesitated, wondering how to ask it. “What about sleeping? I mean… you were… in a freezer…”

            “Yeah… um… Yeah, I sleep in a freezer. Cas - Castiel, the angel - said he would transport the freezers for me if I want. I’m going to take him up on that offer. It just seems easier than trying to haul around freezers without having people ask questions.”

            Sam nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. So… Castiel. What’s he like? You haven’t said much. What do the angels want with you?”

            Dean hesitated. Sam could hear it the way he spoke his words next. “That’s what I need to talk to you and Dad about. I want you to talk to Dad, Sammy, and make him swear he won’t try anything. I even want that in writing, you got that?”

            “Writing?” Sam scoffed. “Dean, that’s-”

            “Yeah, I know, but that’s what I want.”

            Sam sighed. “Alright, Dean. I’ll see what I can do.”

            “Okay, good. And after that, I want you and Dad to drive to Bobby’s and we can all meet up there. Except give me a little time to tell Bobby about, um… me being undead and all that stuff. And then we all need to sit down and have a long discussion. Okay?”

            “Okay, Dean,” Sam said quietly. “If that’s what you want.”

            He would do whatever his brother wanted.

 


End file.
